Too much synchronicity...
I feel you.
Your touch, your taste, your kiss, your skin.
Knocking me is the way to go, just put our lips together, and blow.
Baby, just breathe on me.
Blow on my soft flesh and kiss.
Lubriciously, lusciously, lustfully.
Breathe on my taste, my touch, my sin.
We don't even need to be physical, tonight, my senses don't make sense at all.
Our imaginations...
Take it in, let it out...
Baby, just breath on me.
Seductively, sensually, sexually.
We don't even need to touch, just breathe.
Baby.... **** yeah.
(Moans)
Feel my sin as it's desire that I unleash.
Magnitude, corresponding with your aching thought of impure lustful intention.
Intention, feel me grasp onto your every nerve with my non-physical touch.
Caress me, hold me, baby, don't even **** me, just breathe onto my neck, my shoulder, my breast, my stomach, my *****, my thigh, my legs, my ***.
Can you feel it?
As I mind *******, it's that tingling sensation I release.
Aaaaaaah, baby, stop, and just breathe.

you say that the zodiac means nothing, but you have not seen the toxinity of two star signs that should have never collided.
a toxic relationship. it begins with their happiness depending on you. your smile fueling their existance into the night and hopes of seeing it in the morning. their aura consisting of depths of neverending black, you drown yourself in. their black swepted hair matching perfectly with their blues eyes of sadness. it continues with your sadness matching yours, two people barely hanging on to the world. you find yourself wondering why you are wasting your time with a 12% chance.

I wanna marry a chav
that looks just like
Britney Spears,
now, not ten years ago---
Barefoot & pregnant in yoga pants,
Barefoot mother slipping
into black stockings---
She idolizes her rivals,
Wants to be her own evil-twin---
I wanna marry the **** out of her
& watch her belly grow
in the sundaddy-o---
I want to take her ***
To the ****** Islands---
And watch her beached,
She is the opposite of who she is---
Completely manic up & running
She who stays within reach
Of images drowned
Between an old lady’s thighs---
Mother slips on black pantyhose,
Adjusting the waist over her *******
On Thursdays, sunnyside
every other day
---
Mother 8 months preggers in yoga pants

I pity all broken hearts
Filled with spears and darts
How could people be cruel
To hurt what's behind all arts

Homeless, is all that it is now
Living beside a waste bin
With no walls for warmth in winter
Not even a door to let you in

My heart wants to reach out
Asking you for a place to live
This can't be the end of life
There's still something called love