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by
Eliot
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If I was a poet
Poems
Feb 2018
Succubus
Red hair ;
Ripped blue jeans
She appears ;
Dark lips ;
Spelling dark lies
She moves near ;
She giggles with glee ;
Followed by her succubus glare
She roared in your veins ;
Starving ;
A hunger never to be fulfilled
She's back again ;
Lust to lust ;
Flesh to flesh
Sharp scratches ' piercing skin ;
Your sweet temptress ;
Her hunger to devour you
In the hell between her thighs ;
Her savage fingers lingers ;
On your blood soaked chest
Bathing herself in your death ;
You are her'stage ;
She performs every blood moon night
Ripped vestures, uneven breathΒ Β ;
Pervert, she is ;
And so are you
Uttering, mastering it ;
Written by
If I was a poet
24/F/Bangladesh.
(24/F/Bangladesh.)
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311
Ernesto Estefan
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