1.
This blue one is my favorite,
in the peak of ****** excitement
she calls me "Devil" between
sweet obscenities and tender bites
that lets me decide her species
a killer whale she is.
2.
I fell in love with this aspect
at the very first sight,
the easy buoyancy of the cuttle fish,
Ah! the delicate squid in my dreams
in her transforamtive rigor of
peripatetic desire.Above me she hovers,
we are entangled with the strands of clouds.
In the soft poetic squid folds,
my desires find discharge.
3.
Octopus, oh my perfect metaphor for desire,
are you strictly a fish by definition, I muse
though a mollusc, who cares, as long as your
supple tendrils, know how to touch and arouse
allow pleasure to flow through eight ducts,
would take you as the equivalent of a bisexual yen
in your tight binding and sucker amour,
under water I am the slave for your pleasure,
bleeding amour in equal measure
on each embrace.
4.
Gold fish is a cliche, but is it her fault?
when frothing orange morning sun
seeps in to her spacious glass cage
she is another rich kid, seeking pleasure
and when she sings with her wings
dreamily moves, a pendent of Gods she is
my longing see the cliche, yet oh! such *** appeal,
my tactile desire, is more alacritous than being tactical.
May 5, 2016
May 5, 2016 at 10:55 AM UTC
1.
This blue one is my favorite,
in the peak of ****** excitement
she calls me "Devil" between
sweet obscenities and tender bites
that lets me decide her species
a killer whale she is.
2.
I fell in love with this aspect
at the very first sight,
the easy buoyancy of the cuttle fish,
Ah! the delicate squid in my dreams
in her transforamtive rigor of
peripatetic desire.Above me she hovers,
we are entangled with the strands of clouds.
In the soft poetic squid folds,
my desires find discharge.
3.
Octopus, oh my perfect metaphor for desire,
are you strictly a fish by definition, I muse
though a mollusc, who cares, as long as your
supple tendrils, know how to touch and arouse
allow pleasure to flow through eight ducts,
would take you as the equivalent of a bisexual yen
in your tight binding and sucker amour,
under water I am the slave for your pleasure,
bleeding amour in equal measure
on each embrace.
4.
Gold fish is a cliche, but is it her fault?
when frothing orange morning sun
seeps in to her spacious glass cage
she is another rich kid, seeking pleasure
and when she sings with her wings
dreamily moves, a pendent of Gods she is
my longing see the cliche, yet oh! such *** appeal,
my tactile desire, is more alacritous than being tactical.
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