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.
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 ! :)
I wake up in the morning and put on a pretty dress, My goal is to stun, amaze, and impress. I make it about halfway through school without fuss, But around 5th period I’m written up because cleavage isn’t a must.
I’m getting punished for my own set of double D’s, Because the men around me get erections from a passing breeze. If kids in high school can’t control themselves, Why should I be the one punished for my huge shelves?
Why are men not taught to respect women, But I am told I look slutty once again? You’d think boys would be more than their ***** by this time, But as of now cleavage is still a crime.