Thanks!
You really showed me who's in charge
As I now deal with this goey, thick discharge

And you really caused me to consider castration
As days pass by while dealing with painful urination

Thanks alot!
Your moves were all really beautiful spectacles
So much so that I now have painful testicles

We were kissing, licking, twisting and twitching
I guess that explains the severe **** itching

Thanks, but
You do show room for great improvements
This I ponder while having unusual bowel movements

You do know that this might cause us to divorce?
I'm just so sick and tired of having painful *******

But you still think you're all that and endlessly gloat?
Hah, Id do the same thing, but I've got a sore throat

But Thanks
You've molded my spirit animal into a ******
Am I going crazy or have I contracted a fever?  

I guess I'm just another one of your victims
I wish I was lucky with no noticeable symptoms.

Oh well!

I guess that's it girl, I guess I'll see ya
Thank you again, for giving me gonnorhea!

I want to scale your every inch
From head to toe, mouth to chin
Your arms against my heart as they clinch
Sending shivers down under your skin

To grasp your neck & take you whole
Ravish your senses as you endlessly moan
As I explore your body & take my leisurely stroll
I take you down an alley alone

Raw passions threaten to explode
An insatiable feast
You scream out our safe code
Piercing warmth  
As our bodies sin
You finish, before I even begin.

The more I undress you
The more you are in light
As the half-burnt moon come out from the clouds
It fell on your rising ******* in my hand
Then slide across the undulations
Down to the river
From where rises the gypsy madness and the wild smell of a primitive surrender
Oracles are born then
I can hear them, even you
As we make love
In our body dances
The Mediterranean wine.

Salve
by Michael R. Burch

(for the victims and survivors of 9-11)

The world is unsalvageable ...

but as we lie here
in bed
stricken to the heart by love
despite war’s
flickering images,

sometimes we still touch,

laughing, amazed,
that our flesh
does not despair
of love
as we do,

that our bodies are wise

in ways we refuse
to comprehend,
still insisting we eat,
drink ...
even multiply.

And so we touch ...

touch, and only imagine
ourselves immune:
two among billions

in this night of wished-on stars,

caresses,
kisses,
and condolences.

We are not lovers of irony,

we
who imagine ourselves
beyond the redemption
of tears
because we have salvaged
so few
for ourselves ...

and so we laugh
at our predicament,
fumbling for the ointment.

Keywords/tags: 911, war, survival, survivors, recovery, love, *******, ***, tears, redemption, bodies, flesh, touch, caresses

I've had *** before; Many times.
But none as spiritually awakening as this time.
Your hands wandering my body as if exploring an uncharted island.
Your fingers making me sing a song I had only ever forced myself to sing.
My core exploding like fireworks on the 4th of July.
You made me feel what no other man could. Love.

~sdr