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Jan 2018
When, like a ticking chance, lust tracks one down,
Even My cheap seduction is to die for, mourn to.  
Would we focus better on the after ride
when guilt and unquestioned answers are homeless
Love in her gear is slowly roaming through the house,
Her face naked next to my chase,
A pent in a piece of chess,
Crowned to the dome, Hello
She then Comes, like a razor talking,
cut the tie between stunning and grinding,
Deliver me who bless in my tribe,
Of lust am brighter than Qonga's trap
The tap of the Escorting charming tongue,
her rooted shape Of the bone inch
Heat drawn from a glimpse of cold
All naked under her fitted clothes

O! Deliver me, my Sotho masters,
head and heart, hardly Proud
The heart of a Champ baked thin,
When blood, *****-shaded, and the logic tribe
Drives a gift up like bruises to the thumb,
From maid and head, From Beard and Gloss
For, Saturday faced, with culture on my rhythm,
Sweat in my palm ,A gun on my mouth
Shooting Blanks with my speech
I am the man with a sensual eye,
I, those time's ***** or the Boat of a die
May fail to bore a ****** event eventually
not Even In the straight shave,
I shall not invite my Dominance for a Grade

Struggled through beauty's scent on my wrist,
Small brain masters to dust when a touch blows
despite of the Fore faith in the play's stunt,
I Kissed oxytocin and it began telling tales,
The narration of how tall is lust
She failed to understand, it’s a body language,
made of a series of alphabets before
the letter ‘A’.
I understand, She could not stand that
breathing silently, shaking readily,
Heart beating loudly, sight shining blurry
pleasured in ways she cannot sell or share
So she chew before she took a bite
Imagination is a not a foolish fantasy,
swimming under the face of Earth, before I could feel it
and the *** stain On my gear and face and she said
Yes, yes, you lover chauffeur, Take me to your darkest hour
Steering Ascends downhill, That costs a day ride,
New tires, With a Firm grip I took an honor.
down facing safe danger in the hangar
tied tight, Held close, A journey made of trips
I drew a handful song on a summer dust
She Painted bridges with an eraser, unsafe functions of Algebra,
Every city tar on my crib begin to scratch the duty and order

Humming with her eyes through my neck.
Singing wet tour composed by the absence of lies
She lied and laid weakened on her knees like a maid
Fitted Bars of shades on her routine,
The body language ,She heard the bold poke for attention
The dust is faster than the speed,
I watered fire in a catalytic script,
For Every twist between the easement and the creation
I stole her scent, studied her smile
and dominated the source of pride
Everything ends, But the town’s suffice for two among us,
Had her with the seventh gear of a lead,
the leaning scene of a spear and a shield
I had a silent fling with warm and pointy
******* stable as a pillow,
I Give, I summon, I have the power to taze the lioness
gaze her *** shaking her calm
uncontrollably like a cemented skin,
A bridge crossed and we hunt scenes,.
All, the bumpy curves, the whole slit
roaring turns coughing contagiously,
cliffs are loading zones fuelled with tricks,
exploring the forbidden side,
That’s when she burbs thanks.
As a new chapter, A call to re-open terms.
Negotiating for a stay, she can’t quickly beg for more.
I give her all, That’s all.
Kgotsofalang Naha I-NTP
Written by
Kgotsofalang Naha I-NTP  26/M/Cape Town,Western Cape,SA
(26/M/Cape Town,Western Cape,SA)   
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