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Eliot
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soul in torment
Poems
Oct 2013
food for fantasy
Soft ...
warm ..
white flesh
pressed gentle to my lips
as
juice...
flows ..
softly and from my chin
now drips
Scent...
intoxicating..
as taste and touch explode
in
*******
waves of pleasure
that down my
throat...
So sweetly..
flowed.
Hunger sedated
Tastebuds cry thy name
as I recount the pleasure
without guilt or any shame.
:):):):):);):):):):)
**** I love roast chicken....
;)
Blame Maria her poem Consume set me off lol go read it
Written by
soul in torment
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kuku bird
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Sophie Monigatti Lake
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