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Arke Jun 2018
we'll make love on the shore
beneath the trees of sycamore
a lilac scent in the air
my fingers run through your hair
your mouth leaves marks on my skin
I can't suppress a silly grin
I feel your hand run up my thigh
my legs open, your reply
and as the tide begins to shift
your mouth gives a splendid gift
all at once, I feel you tense
your love for me, too immense
once you have come inside
and after you are satisfied
I feel your tongue further down
in this pleasure, I could drown
I'll ride the waves and let go
my heart is now set aglow
so let's make love by the shore
and I'll feel you in me once more
I attempted rhyming **** with limited success.

— The End —