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Poetic T Nov 2020
I was told I had nice ****,
         but they were a tad on

the hairy side...

A Woman can be so judgmental..

they aren't sagging,
                            and yes I may be an A cup,

but anything is more than a waste to my wife..
Elisabeth Meyer Feb 2020
I have the feeling
Of not knowing how to express
Any of what’s going on

But do I even know what I feel?

I have the feeling
Of letting go some big chunks
all of them belonging to the past

But can I even be sure they are gone for good?

I have the feeling
Of complete numbness at times
Completely overwhelmed by all and nothing

But isn’t numbness a feeling too?

I have the feeling
Of new things approaching me
In the sense of change in character

But does that mean this is who I want to be?
Carlo C Gomez Jan 2020
...Bursting out of
Salma Hayek's dress!

Can someone please
Get her a wrap or shawl?!!
Àŧùl Feb 2019
I looked at you, babe,
Only to dream about it,
Oh! I experienced it.

In the dream that I was having,
I was happily skiing,
Skiing down the valley.

Down the smooth bathykolpian valley,
I dreamt that I was falling freely.
I went around the navel to *** down under.
My HP Poem #1732
©Atul Kaushal
She's this insatiable urge
gaining on me,
like a herd of horses
galloping in the treachery of the wild,
their muscles brushed to a shine
rippling down their calves
to embrace the ground
beneath their ironed hooves
shaking it up, tormenting its calm,
whipping up tremors
that know no chains and travel far.

When she's around
dust and sweat break free
with muscles aching in symphony
the heart is all worked up
like a boiler room in heat
pummeling all of its adrenaline
in one fleeting indulgence
which the universe with all its hatcheries
is itching to contain
before the raging tides in
and floods my world.

She's the elusive horizon
used to passionate chases
and the sly azure lunging at it
for one sweet glimpse of the cleavage where it conjoins with the earth
looking for Elysium that never is.
Ah! But that is what it is
for the tamed to think of love
is an impossibility
for it grows in the wild
separated by a hundred chasms
and a million mazes
waiting for a fool to cross over.

When she isn't around
the rumpled sheets tell our story
for it has seen the storms
that raged in the cavernous nights
and filled up balmy noons
with the savagery of love
still crackling like embers of fire
which have seen better days,
and, light up still, with a death wish
to tell of our smouldering lives
that thrived in spasms of our last breath.
Harsha Jun 2018
If CNN reports there is a meteorite heading towards earth
Hurling through space
Then this is how I choose to spend the last of my days
My last moments on earth burying my face
Between your long legs - In that special sensual place
Or find comfort lost in your warm cleavage;
Perfectly formed from your voluptuous breast  
That makes up cotton candy mountains upon your chest;
If this is the end
I would tilt back my head lock my eyes with yours
As I rescue my face
To come up for some much needed air
Then resume immediately after a couple of breaths
So I could comfortably vanish back into your chest;
If this is the end- then
This is how I choose to face this impending carnage
This last and most unfortunate fate
Buried between your lovely legs or taking refuge submerged in your cleavage
Considering myself to be the luckiest of hostage;
Who s struck with a mild case of the Stockholm syndrome(you see)
Even in the face, of such a great threat, guaranteeing certain death
But yet - feeling completely safe, enjoying the way you taste
Listening to your heartbeat- I am both lost and found in your gaze
Then forgetting this fate - I marvel at your god given grace
Looking forward to the end
I rest my hopes my dreams my secrets upon your cleavage
wrote this last night on a whim - this morning she begged me not to post this she did not consider this as a win. i know this is messy i know it sounds crazy but i had to share this and i am really sorry baby ! :)
K Balachandran Sep 2017
name she coyly said,
lost between pout and cleavage.
need a second chance.
K Balachandran Aug 2017
middle parted hair,
eyes go down to her naval
arrested at cleavage
Poetic T Oct 2015
Like pokies they stuck always out, never afraid
To show that they were here to stay for all to see.

A tattoo of a bow caressed her cleavage, the tattooist
Even though not meaning rubbed pokies to much.

Ending with a happy customer, a damp seat and a wet floor.
Just being rude :)
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