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Apollo Oct 2020
Lovers kiss
fig-sweet and holy
tangled in ivy
fingers twined 
in Titian hair
He loves the taste
of wine and blood
the madness 
of drunken lust
of frenzied rage
of flesh and fruit
Lips full
and blushed crimson
slick with nectar
Words that spill from
his kiss-swollen mouth
rend and restore
burn against skin
Balm of Gilead 
to the heart
Drink him, slowly
the thirst
is bottomless
Sketcher Nov 2018
Oh, at last,
I'm passed it,
Those feelings,
I trashed it,
I'm leaving,
Won't last it,
She's squealing,
I smashed it,
I'm bleeding,
From blast hit,
That **** hurt,
But I'm not done,
I ate dirt,
That wasn't fun,
Psyche, I spurt,
Out a **** ton,
Then she squirt,
But I'm her son,
I'm no pervert,
Now I'm done...

But I'm back,
Talking random,
I'm not black,
Yet I'm candid,
When my smack,
Becomes platinum,
There's a stack,
For the ransom,
Chill with hoodlums,
Always get caught,
That just bout' sums,
Up what happens not,
Throw **** together,
See if it works,
If it doesn't,
Keep it in still,
Cause it makes a mark.
An very random Anacreontic freestyle.

— The End —