***
****
All night long till the sun comes up and gose back down.

Let your hair down
And ****
And ***

Let everything ago and enjoy the exctasy of ***.

The pumping of his **** in you,
And her nails in your back.

Fuxk make love.
*** and moan so the naighbour a cane hear.

So **** it and enjoy it.

You make yourself easy to be seen..
    by someone like me.
The only  thing I would think you would  find
  as surprising

Is why it has taken this  long
for a beautiful Thoroughbred in Spirit
such as you
to finally be seen
for exactly who it is that you are

Free from assessment or judgement,
I would venture so far to say  
that the greater  central part
of who it is that you are,  
is (sadly so)  tremendously lonely.

Again, not a judgement  at all,
but an assessment of life in general.
A lover like me would be perfect,
but I am  (as you could guess)
spiritually volatile in how deeply I push--

..Even within the normal  give and take
of everyday things. Sometimes  even
one well placed  word  can bring one
off-center and into  (and towards)
an even deeper part  of their own journey.

Most gorgeously-luscious
Thoroughbreds such as yourself
usually  pick less 'challenging' partners
in order to have a somewhat more
'stable' home life..

..But sadly with that also,  develops
a relationship where the deeper,
   more exctasy-based and driven
      parts  of  you

   are left with no choice
   but to become, dormant..

in order to protect the 'beautiful-luscious'
within you from slipping into despair

--Until one day,
what you have been avoiding
   (longing for)  most,
shows his *******.. unorthodoxically-untethered,
brazen attitude (and perfectly clear eyesight)

   and suddenly you become seen.

There is absolutely no way
with some one like me  that you..
(within all of your Wondreous,
   Deep-feeling Glory)
would not eventually be seen.

I urge you to take  every single
part of it all,  in..
(the very thing you were "built" to do)..
Even if in doing so, you were almost
continually brought right up  to
(and so very often, "over")  the edge

Gifted fingers, helping the body  find
its own form of release,
when the pressings of Spirit,  mixed
with the deeply-Penetrating View  that
Love carries within every single  part
  of itself..
..Those gracious fingers are not 'up to no good'..
   but instead..
(by the very Deeply-Understanding
nature of Love itself)..  
  both they..  and the  whole
  beautiful process of Release..

      is deemed, Holy.

The physical human body  becomes
pushed way too far  within its limited
ability to contain,  the Wholly
uncontainable Ectsatic Pulsings
  of Love's true Agenda.

Perfection knows that and says
      (so do I)..

     "How could she not?"

Be gracious to yourself, girl.
You have wanted to live
within the Beautiful Realms,  
worthy of your calling.

   Welcome Home ❤

i reach for the gum in my pocket.
pulling the package out, i see the pristine morsel,
for a few moments i just sit and stare.
my heart begins to pound,
my hands shaking slightly in the eerie silence.
i suddenly tear at the packaging,
fighting against plastic and foil.
as the piece is freed from its packaged prison,
i fumble with it awkwardly in my hands,
before putting it in my mouth.
i let out a sigh: peppermint exctasy.
a new feeling washes over me,
god i need her here.

I killed monday with tuesday. Hit it so hard it gave wednesday a concussion. Which apparently made thursday mad since I messed up his **** day. To get rid of our problems and let bygons be bygons we made a toast in the honor of friendship since it is thirsty thursday. Party was insane. I met this fine girl named Friday. We were both a lil wasted and did somethings grown folks can relate too. I met another girl saturday. Equally as fine as the day before, hungover she said she can take care of me and make me feel better with time. I believed her and let my walls down. I was stripped raw of my layers. Did the same thing I did to friday. What a trip, exctasy until I realized, I arrived and could have picked up some extra baggage in my journey to and fro. I kneeled down on sunday praying for forgiveness and to wake up from this confusing dream. My prayers were answered but with a price to pay. knock knock knock police broke down the door within a moments notice. I am encarcerated for ****** in the first degree of a Monday morning, **** of Friday night and drunken driving on thirsty thursday. I pleaded guilty of loving friday, wanting fun on thursday. Only saturday would speak to me for she loved me, while encarcerated she gave birth to twins, in memorium of my sins I named them monday and tuesday. Wednesday awoke from the coma and married the drunk thursday. Friday is still a carbon spitful copy of saturday. And my faith within sunday still lies within my soul. If I die tonight this will be my final memoir and my sons will become *******. Godwilling they will not be mirror images of Kane and Able. But one will most likely be hated. Sadly these are the days of our lives.

there is
that one ambitious destination
that one castle in the air
that one taste of exctasy
that beams a flicker of light within us.

let that candle flame spread like wildfire
and spew out of you.
let your passion light this grey world with unclouded - and much needed - colour.

- t.m

If you were a drug
I'd take you every day

If love was exctasy
I'd always take it

If you were ****
I'd be high all the time

But
I don't need drugs
Your here
Next to me
Loving me
Being the lady of my dreams

This rush
This madness
What is this feeling
How can you describe it
Is it okay to always want it?
What if someday it fades
Just like everything else

But for now we are in control of
ourselves
And we are experiencing moments of exctasy even if they only last  seconds