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Pisceanesque Jan 2017
Her honey'd hole a wet, *******,
her liquid gold a silky stream where
sliding thrusts were mounted, hot,
and arching bodies dared not stop;
where moments flowed into the next
and both were drowned in comfort ***
and eyes were riding each one's soul:
his quest for freedom her only goal

And rather than come up for air
this fiery passion sank them there,
(as both an anchor, 'twined like rope,
and locked in pelvic gyroscope)
her swollen thighs around his waist,
her nails embedded, tongues embraced
and fishing for that final taste
with every touch, in every place

Fused as one with melting cores,
(her curling toes demanding more)
his urgent need to plunge her rightly
sealed them closed with hearts bound tight, and
all around them
walls of water washed their sins
in quickening waves that locked them in
with swats and spanks
and gentle yanks and saucy stares
while skin to skin and hand to soaking hair

Like rolling tide to rocky shore,
(her legs thrown wide, his pelvis sore)
the crash and grind of karmic ties
were deep explored and fast revived
- with whispered greed they came alive -
awash with ***** un-restraint and
thrived, un-reined, with fate to blame,
their pulsing needs through every vein,
infused as one and charged by same:
her wild release on which he came
an ocean, calling out her name
© Tamara Natividad
www.pisceanesque.com
Written 10 January, 2017
leinstinct Nov 2016
Art is not an element
Art is not an object
Art is soul and heart depicted
Art is the subjectivity of the objective
Art is love and all the beauty
Art transends reason and logic
Art is pure abstractal medicine
Art is expression and entertainment
Art is life and death conjucture
Art is an everlasting ******
Art is to our souls as what oxygen is to our lungs
Art is pleasure and pain conjucture
Art is an everlasting ******
Art is life beauty and escence
Art is perception attitude and perspective
Art is life
Art is love
Penthesilea Sep 2016
Both of them came
**– repeatedly.
Someone's getting *****. It's a phase lol
Àŧùl Aug 2016
I love your eyes and the eyebrows,
And I love your nose & the lips.

I love your smile and the laughter,
And I love your grimace & the tears.

I love your happiness and the anger,
And I love your innocence & the glamour.

I love your appearance in my dreams,
And I love the lap dance you perform.

I love your sketch in all of my memories,
And I love those curves tempting to sculpt.

I love your memories with all my heart,
And I refuse to give up all hope even if you get married to someone else.
My HP Poem #1117
©Atul Kaushal
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