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Jesus ******* wept. I cannot stand you standing there. Come here and let me hate you with my mouth. I cannot give you gentle, and I cannot give you soft pink flesh and flushed cheeks. I want your tongue more productive than just telling me you love me. I want hands between my thighs, not just grasping, interlocking fingers. I see your toes curl and fists clench as I disappear beneath the sheets And breathe wanting you in the language we both recognise. I can’t stand you, I just want you. I want you silent or screaming, But **** me, I don’t want you talking. Give me a ******* With a heart And a **** hard as stone.
0
Mar 25, 2015
Mar 25, 2015 at 4:24 PM UTC
*** on a Sonnet (September 2013)
Jesus ******* wept. I cannot stand you standing there. Come here and let me hate you with my mouth. I cannot give you gentle, and I cannot give you soft pink flesh and flushed cheeks. I want your tongue more productive than just telling me you love me. I want hands between my thighs, not just grasping, interlocking fingers. I see your toes curl and fists clench as I disappear beneath the sheets And breathe wanting you in the language we both recognise. I can’t stand you, I just want you. I want you silent or screaming, But **** me, I don’t want you talking. Give me a ******* With a heart And a **** hard as stone.
emerald-in-the-rough
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Mar 25, 2015
Mar 25, 2015 at 4:24 PM UTC
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