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Mar 2012
Our liquid souls collide in liquid lips.
No words are needed for tongues to entertain
Each other, slick as flickering fingertips,
Blistering with the passion of the insane.

We share our plasma while there's something to burn.
Brand your name within my irises.
Eyes memorize as much as they can learn,
Like a computer scanning for viruses.

I rise like heat when clothing melts away
And now our tongues can fulfill their destinies.
No more thinking; it is time to play.
In slightly less than seventy ways we please.

The ****** is slithering and slakes while nearing
Exploding in ecstasy-- sensational searing
Skeptic Tank
Written by
Skeptic Tank
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     ---, M P Hill and Skeptic Tank
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