“Quite a piece this doesn’t come along every day”He was tapped into her forever mores or heretofore reservoirs of passion.The creme de la creme her pursed mouth prim. She couldn’t wait to lick him higher watering his rim. But after he breaststroked with her he has taken a bite fresh ****** fruit she broke. He spends all his time extolling her virtues, what’s left the first virtue ****** painting feast. For his eyes *** all day. Planting her nest.Lay Lady lay. He made this avocado melting ***-her fondue smelling hot what’s next to pursue such charm. His ears pierced like a fire alarm. blazing the fireplace. Her blush deepened like she was diced. To the *******. Asking for so much more.You were wearing your erotically to die for **** me shoes.He was the Hollywood *******. I was going to *** crave you knock you down.

Like the colonel of **** mustard spicy so **** hot.His hair deep brown. He lengthened got bigger what a shot. How the carpet just spread me to bounce my buttocks.She tried so hard to lay everything out from his bowl his manly sword like a dual. He steamed out like Maddocks  Taurus bedroom eyes of the bull. So much to roll her feet heated so penetrated him to the floor.The rain was heavy and thick dripping with your creamy avocado puddle

Your love is like,
beautiful bands
of moving light,
undulating emotions,
through your big beating heart,
forcing chaotic
an intriguing energy,
outward to the skin,
pulsing through your fingertips,
emanating from your spirit,
piercing me those eyes,
connecting deeper
than I have ever known,
my soul to soul connection,
one deep look-
so hauntingly familiar
our eyes meet,
an we tie the moment,
creating the most exotic
and wonderful,
parallel universe of our own,
right in each others arms.

Ma Cherie © 2017

How deep is your love?
How far can you go for that one person
that you hold very dear to your heart?
Will you cross the seven seas
to get a glimpse of their eyes?

Your eyes remind me so much
of the deep caverns of the seas
Your gaze are so intense
that I am afraid I'll get lost into it
Your passion so deep
something that enamors me to you
How can someone harbor such fire
that even water cannot put out?

Your voice like a siren,
and the anchor in my ship
You keep me right above the water,
something that keeps me afloat,
that keeps me to my sanity
and the very person pulling me deep

Though, I don't want to touch you
For the fear that you might slip away
from my grasp
Like sand flowing away
as the wind disperse it on my palms

But I kept holding onto you still
Like an oyster holding its pearl
You're the treasure I hold the dearest

You are very like the waves
that comes back to the shore
Though I am not your shore

I know very well
that I cannot swim
Yet
I hope you'll come by
to save me just in time
Just how you always did

I want to wake up
at the sound of your beating heart
beside me, with that intense stare of yours

I want to be the one
who will trace the lines
of your calloused hands laid out for me

I want to get lost
into the depths of your soul
as we both exchange our love wordlessly

I want you and me
intertwined into each other
with your hands wrapping safely with mine
As if you don't want to let go

I want you to love me
to look at me the way
I would look at you
to look at me in that way
you would give in
through the music you create

I want to love you
to express all the love I have for you
I only wish for you my dearest

But sometimes this want
is the hindrance to it all

But
I want you
I still want you
**But I must not

As I lie in bed writing this I feel an overbearing sense of nothingness, emptiness.. void of any emotion when normally I would.

Writing to me was therapeutic, calming progressive for me. But now..it's lost it's edge. I no longer feel creative, the desire to pick up the pen is gone and I'm back to square one. This was the one thing I was good at.

My fix wasn't taking drugs or getting drunk. It was pouring my soul into my work...and now....

It's gone...I don't know what to do.

I'm literally at a

loss

for....

In trying to pick out a pattern in chaos,
I found neither symmetry nor direction.
It just was- and that's all it needed to be,
Unadulterated.
Speculation free.

No rhythm, no purpose, no agenda.
Just pure chaotic goodness straight from a sourceless chasm

To even attempt to decipher the endless web of desires,
of sorrows, or fleeting wonder- is to attempt to unravel the spider's web by speaking it. It is to sing down the moon.
It cannot be done- but there is no harm in trying.