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We were both smoking long blunts;
-having a much longer conversation
and she confessed a truth about self:

[Her hands had grown a fatigued touch,
too tired to touch the rest of itself
Her body a trade of secrets; constantly learning
all of the best places, to please herself.

And lastly, our eyes, both held history of
**** pictures- seeing each other with our naked
eyes; and of course, the many glares of knowing
how to please ourselves.

      Two lovers, who truly loved themselves.
Carlo C Gomez Apr 17
~
Cotton duck canvas
on careful days
in a closed room,
intersecting tension,
energy and interest
for strangers to interpret

Three bashful belles
and lovers of art
undressed as a figure study,
cloistered together
in a line of beauty
for moral support

Their congregation assembled
in glorification of
angelic landscapes,
tempered by the mysteries
within convexity's arboretum

In unequivocal parts and gradation,
where good posture
and graceful presentation
count in equal measure,
to create Hogarth's
line continuous
--the Analysis of Beauty,
bended at the waist
to spread light through the canopy

During such exhibition
the belles whisper
under the rose,
of war and shopping lists,
they seem to avert eye contact,
gazes fixed to
the eternal sphere
ticking on the far wall,
never directly into the eyes
of those who come to
paint their *******
with sandalwood

~
Karijinbba Jan 14
The traveler's wife?
I get it! You showed
that movie in the
magazine pages
long before the movie
came out

Pt, I finally did
watch it each time it rains
and when the sun shines
i search for you still;
shoes shirt and pants on hand
 place them behind the bushes
in search of you and amidst
pine tree branches too
thinking of you dearest
darling
How i love you.

Not a day goes by
I do not seek you.
Please don't go hunting
but if you do I shall run
to hug you beg you to stay
traveler dearest
twin soul divine.
I love you. 
~~~~
By: Karijinbba
And Mrs and Mrs Andrews.
https://youtu.be/gI1uyu8KtyE?si=KCTrPx2WudtII4Ut
and we see a paper ****
and words are decorations on her body
and poems are pretty clothes for her
and this feeling is for you
and we see a paper ****
and a pen lying on the table
and you're the one
who's been silent
waiting for love to air
and the poet reads it
Indonesia, 6th January 2022
Arif Aditya Abyan Nugroho
NPt Aug 2021
It's diff for everybody..
but to me the exposure and my influences got me comfortable with the **** body.

As dancer or mover
  I have high regard for the body, specially my own body.

I learned to connect and be aware of own body,
every part, every cell of it.

Always drawn to the lines and shapes that the body creates
how it tells a story and express emotion.


When I got into figure sketching community,
I was able to be sketch human figure and all the more I got expose to the **** body.

All the more I appreciate it and take it as it with no malice or awkwardness.

Taking it as it is, as raw and natural it is.
Then the real beauty of it rise.
Carlo C Gomez May 2021
~
atop the Manhattan skyline
her similitude descends as rain
we see her wonderwork
we see her water-standing
her very abandonment of draperies
unassuming and artless
where the heedless moths settle
with bodies of mystic warmth
colored with rose and a dash of flame

~
– for Audrey Munson
Audrey Marie Munson (June 8, 1891 – February 20, 1996) was an American artist's model and film actress, today considered "America's First Supermodel." In her time, she was variously known as "Miss Manhattan", the "Panama–Pacific Girl", the "Exposition Girl" and "American Venus." She was the model or inspiration for more than twelve statues in New York City, and many others elsewhere.
rk Mar 2021
you told me
when you closed your eyes
and you felt your blood
start to boil
it's my face you see
all without ever
having my body.

i smiled
and replied;
lover,
undress the mind
and the soul will follow
the body will never come close.
- in that case you have captured me entirely.
JV Beaupre Nov 2020
Collared for white collar,
To society I'm paying my dues
The Trump appointee Club Fed blues.

The beds are pretty clean and soft,
At Club Fed, they hardly cost

Shootin' shuffleboard, takin' a snooze
Just forgettin' the Club Fed blues

The **** beach aint just ahead
Club Fed just aint the Club Med

At 3-pm, it's tea and cake
Every night supper-- it's Trump steak
The cash register rings, it's all his take.

They're adding on to the Club Fed thing,
A spanking new Congressional wing

Having latte with a Trumper con
He whines,"I'm no Don,
I was just a pawn."

On the ladies side, want to meet
Lori, the College Admission cheat

No black ink pen tattoos
Just plain old Club Fed blues

Bill Barr and Rudy sit at table
Remembering when they were on cable
Just spinning another Ukrainian fable

Missing my 5-pm yardarm *****
A stiff price to pay, the Club Fed blues

When I leave it's to the Caribbean
To a fat numbered account
And I'll finally lose the Club Fed blues.
Spriha Kant Sep 2020
No regret , no descent of gloomy drop from eyes and no pain in heart for falling for a man dressed in courage.

No shivering in hands for emptying all those love poetries into trash which unknowingly embraced a spineless in the ****.

Flowers of love and trust , though , trampled but I am still a flower who is yet to be wilted !
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