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Mister J 14m
Dark room with hints of neon lights
Moonlight patches in the corners
Eyes focused on your silhouette
Hands exploring every bit of you

Breathing becomes heavy, wanting
Throat runs dry, thirsting
Lips touching softly, teasing
Hearts moving slowly, yearning

That sweet vanilla scent
Leaves me in a haze
Those ocean blue eyes
Pulling me deeper into you

Those torrid kissed melting me
As clothes started scattering around
Those soft whispers in my ear
Raise the hairs on my nape

My lips caressing every corner of you
Wanting to taste that sweet nectar
My hands tracing your own
As I go further into you

Hips in overdrive
Reaching for paradise
Passion bursting forth
Like honey flowing through

Kissing you more intensely
As every ****** leads me deeper
Wanting more of you
As you draw every breath

As the end comes near
Let me come in your deepest
Let's reach paradise together
With bodies sweating, with hands held tight

-J
Repost from my Poetizer account.
Sera 11h
---
The moon whispered, Shine beneath me,
I will guard you with my silver glow.
The sun urged, Outshine the diamonds,
Let my light seep into your soul, mesmerize you.

She is an artist—
Eyes locked on the mirror, faith woven into every step.
They call it a divine art, a gift, a fleeting dream.
Yet, she breathes it, moves like water,
tiptoeing with grace to impress the sky.

She twirls, wrapped in a gown of flowing light,
hair glistening, spirit soaring.
For in the realm of rhythm, she reaches utopia—
A world where her feet speak,
where her soul unfurls like a ribbon in the wind.

But the world tells her to study.
To follow the path paved by others' expectations.
They do not care for the utopia she once knew—
For they, too, once danced,
before being told their efforts were in vain.

The moon, once her silent guardian,
The sun, once her golden blessing,
fade into a distant once upon a time...

Yet, she remembers. She dreams.
She longs to be reborn as a peacock,
to dance again beneath an unyielding sky.

And so, she pushes harder.
Carves her own path where none existed.
Shatters limits, defies tradition—
until her story spreads like a folktale.

The protagonist of her own legend,
she etches her fate in the language of music—
pop beats, classical notes, a symphony of triumph.
She dances upon them all,
spinning through the highs, gliding through the lows.

And as the final note fades,
she stands, unbowed, unbroken.
With the pen in her hand, she smiles—
for she has written her own ending.

The dancer herself.
---
DREAMS DO COME TRUE, LISTEN TO YOUR HEART AND GO FOR IT!
ATLEAST YOU WON'T HAVE ANY REGRETS
© [Sera], 2025. Licensed under CC BY-NC-ND 4.0.
If you live for their acceptance, you'll die by their rejection
I embody the poison in the elixir of my fruit
Enthralled with thoughts, habits, expressions of thine self

Adoration for passion infects me with your selection
Your concoction soaked the tree of my root
If you live for their acceptance, you'll die by their rejection

Sought by the bread of affliction
I'm concrete in my own pursuit
Enthralled with thoughts, habits, expressions of thine self

Infatuation fueled my permission
A fire of conviction, enticed by a bite of a core once rebuked
If you live for their acceptance, you'll die by their rejection

Idle in submission
Innocence lies on the bed of my tongue to taste its fruit
Enthralled with thoughts, habits, expressions of thine self

Caught beneath the lukewarm embrace of sweet lies within inner disputes
Agony dresses my soul as it peels off its linen in its pursuit
If you live for their acceptance, you'll die by their rejection
Enthralled with thoughts, habits, expressions of thine self
Your fire so bright,
it takes me in.
Your warmth so tender,
it burns me within.

Heard many warnings,
still I fall.
And I’d fall again,
no regrets.

For this is where I belong.
what the 'moth' said to the 'fire flames' when it asked not to fall.
love is like a wild fire.

not in the way that it spreads and is warm making you so enamoured in someone

no

love is like the stinging heat of the blaze surrounding my home

attacking

unforgiving

love is the flames of heated passion that devour and encapsulate entire families in destruction

love takes everything you hold dear

everyone

and tears them to shreds.

love is not kind to everyone.

love sometimes looks like hatred.
Maria 4d
And have you ever heard how poppies smell?
They are so huge, so wild, so ruby-colored!
They're summer harbingers, the lights of fields!
They are so thrilling, brave and so uncovered!

These poppies easily can put you to the sleep
Or even **** you with no difficult at all!
They're real flashes, doping! They're taboo!
They're passion, craziness and sin in whole!

And have you ever heard how poppies smell?
They are as red as real blood itself!
No? You haven't heard it? Oh, it's sad. You know,
That's how heartfelt and true love just smells.
These flowers are magically, hypnotically beautiful!
Fill the room temperature of my lungs with your kiss's breath –
room temperature wine; compared to your lipstick, and a fine silken
complimented red dress. My compliments to the night, two bodies
twinned into each other, close to the hip’s side. We started off a feast
of sides; you took a piece of my heart – served on a platter. And by
your worth, you must cry diamond tears that cut your face; I tasted
all of your scars.

In the dark, we kiss in the warmth of our love, that it grows a spark –
the elephant in the room; how could I ever forget what you always
meant to me! You split my lips; opening myself to you as I told you
the deeper parts of my story – we are at the same level of building
this close connection, waiting on this storey.

You murdered my soul; killing parts of my time just to spend it all
on you – piercing me into silence from my core; the cause of you
smothering me in the heat of love. Nay, I dropped onto my feet
galloping after your love, crying after it in a whinnying neigh.

I’m a horse in love.
Styles 7d
The curves
of our bodies,
intricately designed,

like whispered prayers
folded into flesh,
etched by hands that knew
we would meet.

Echo the same thoughts,
synchronously aligned,
your breath,
a hymn against my skin,
your touch,
a scripture I long to read.

Fate stitched us together
in silent knowing,
yet here we stand—
near, but never near enough.
Passion is something that coats my skin.
It runs through my veins constantly.... knowing that this is it's home.
Passion is a feeling, a power, being alive at midnight because your mind can't shut off. every muscle in your brain always on memorizing unimportant details because that's what catches it's attention.
Passion is having no one match your energy, feeling like nothing is ever enough.
Passion and I are best friends.... always have been. we live for one another. knowing we'll never find a kindred soul.
I guess all we'll ever have is each other....
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