I often begin my poems right here directly inside of this box this "body" and I think that it's really the only way to put out things I like It's fresh and raw and a little bit squishy but that's okay some people really like squishy here I am in this squishy little body this raw poetry the only time I will ever like this poem is when I can still feel the salt crusting over on my squishy cheeks and I've never found it so difficult to type out the word "squishy" so many times in a row my face feels so crusty but at least it will taste nice to a passerby who may happen to lick it I often regret poems but this one is squishy and some people like squishy so I guess I like squishy.
i'm your o so wanna be lover I'm afraid not what you would expect though i admit to being a difficult pleasure perhaps a tad strange looking squishy with long tentacles half man half octopus with a winking cycloptic eye
i entreat you looks can be deceiving how many pretty boys have you loved crawling worms for a soul that have left you a ruined creel a jagged cry chattering tears of desolation
have you ever asked your self who adores you who would give all to protect love and cherish i'm waving my eight arms at you from the center of the universe i eat black holes to kiss your *** am i not a cosmic horror with my big Cthulhu smile quivering with tenderness
do you hunger for butter **** lollypop i have two big **** heartbreakers with teardrop curves a feast for your two ravenous holes of emptiness and many armed tentacles to hold you tight to slither all over your tender woven caves to pull you into me with suckers that thrill during swirling inky *****
i will unravel your mind your soul tilthed if you can get passed my gray rubbery boneless head
i can push this shape-shifting balloon face through your annul tubular contours all the way up your beautiful *** licking salivating tickling into your tender bowel and throat like a great dancing tongue a stretched waving goodness entering your mouth from the back side
can pretty pretty do that?
come slowly unto me my beloved i am all chromatophores endless glittering nightlights incandescent so we may wander our way through long dim nights ****** in the deep deep dark with tentacle ***** galore an infinity of entertainment for every crevice and desire and one winking cycloptic eye that pierces your soul
Once a man asked me back To his home for after dinner drinks. I was comfortable with that. We had went to dinner several times. I drove my car and followed him. We talked for about 30 minutes or so And I excused myself and went to powder my nose, carrying my handbag. I was out of the room about 4 minutes. When I returned he was naked. He had placed a metal folding chair In the center of his well lit dining room. I know my eyes were as big as saucers. I remember thinking “This escalated fast” Doing a pantomime he held up a latex object that looked like a decanter stopper. Oversized. And upside down. He waved his hand under it as part of his presentation. Think of a stewardess doing the pantomime of flight safety rules, Or QVC seller on television. He then set the item on the metal chair and sat right down on it with an odd squishy-sucky noise. Up until that point I had not moved an inch. I am pretty much open minded about ***. But the whole situation and the mime-like presentation was so much ick I panicked. I ran out the back door. I didn’t say a word. Just ran. He obviously couldn’t follow me quickly because you know.... He had something up his ****.
If this topic is too much or over the top I will be perfectly ok with deleting it.