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Deep Feb 2023
Wrapped around the trunk
I taste the venom of my own tongue,
I lick the skin
in search of an antidote,
My last breath simulating the first
doubles the thirst to live,
But alas!
My love forsakes me to death
trunk was her thigh where this poem was written I recall the blak ink splintered around like a snake. I was no poet only her lover
Don't you worry for me.
I'm alive.

Words pour out of me
like the rivers of thrill
that gushed from deep within me
and rushed away in silent screaming,
in-between the glorious thighs
you missed out on.

Maybe I was only ever there
to prepare you for her.

Maybe I hung by a thread
so you don't hang your head.

Don't you feel sorry for me.
I survived.

With my heart in my hands
at the gates of a shrine
I swore to never forget how your face lit
when you said that I was
your favourite hypocrite.
Savio Fonseca Nov 2021
My Lips went for a Stroll,
around Her Thighs.
They stopped on hearing,
Her Moans and Her Sighs.
I then began worshipping,
Her sacred Shrine.
Coz the Night, was Young
and My Needle, was at Nine.
I passionately kept tasting,
Her Divine Flavour.
Afterall.....She was My Dish,
which I ought to Savour.
"Take your time".....She said,
as I worshipped Her Thighs.
"Coz there lies your Heaven,
waiting to open up it's Skies."
SomeOneElse May 2021
I wish my face were in between
Your soft delicious thighs.
With your legs locked in ecstacy,
your feet rubbing my back.
Your lips pressed tightly to my lips
Treating me to your snack.
I would lick and tease your ****,
I'd kiss and rim your ***.
I'd make you *** a dozen times
and enjoy every drop
there's not an inch I wouldn't kiss,
No spot I wouldn't lick.
I wouldn't stop until you're done
and begging for my ***.
How I wish my face were tween
your soft delicious thighs.
New ****** poem
SomeOneElse Feb 2021
As I gaze with wanting eyes
My mind begins to fantasize
In your thighs i long to be
My lips to roam them endlessly
Starting low then moving high
Intoxicated by your thighs
Caressing your perfect hips
While teasing your sweet ***** lips
This is where my heaven lies
With my face between your thighs
Oh so soft and lubricious
Absolutely delicious
I could spend eternity
Just worshiping your thighs with glee
Oh how happy I would be
To have your thighs, my fantasy
Another ****** poem that I should have published here a long time ago. Still one of my favorites
Phil Meup Jan 2021
Do you believe in fate?
Or is it just some romanticized emotion?
Do you think people are connected?
Or does love only come from devotion?
Have you ever felt sad without knowing why?
So you stare while you drive and you try not to cry
The salt water blurs out the road as it sits in my eye

Everything in me wants to let those waters cascade down my imperfect skin
Yet everything in me holds back that raging sea with the quick motion of blinking lashes

There is nothing and everything in that moment
Time is here and every emotion once felt rises to the surface
Every regret of a path not taken stares at these flooded bloodshot blue windows
They shine the brightest at these moments
Who I truly am dances and shines as it reflects my inner most being
My soul swims in the blue

Regret smiles
No tears are shed
I smile
Regret subsides
It always does
I always love

When time continues I exist
When time stops I thrive
I’m here I’m alive and somehow I survive
Alexandra Eames Aug 2020 between my quivery, burning thighs,
gleaming and steaming my downy mound,
the air alight with my sighs,
oh, girl,
those eyes!

-By Alexandra Eames
Pao Jun 2020
sweat dripping from my thighs
grey tank glued on me
i still got you on my mind
the world ending right before my eyes
murders crying wolf
my generation getting gassed and kidnapped
in the streets of LA, MIA, NYC, BA, CIN
drowning my days with tyler, the creator
humming to me
hoping to feel something
the way you used to make me feel
when we parted ways until our next life time

politicians hungry to violate civil rights
black, brown, trans
manifesting it in their dreams
they have it written in human blood
without a mask on to shield them
from the disease that is their greed

my perception jaded
my thoughts paralyzed
my body aching
might hit that pen
can’t even pick up a pen
having more time than my 20 years of existence
c May 2020
The way you didn’t kiss me
at the top of the Ferris Wheel.

The way you kissed me
at the bottom of my sense of self.

The way I had your fingerprints on my thighs for 2 weeks after you left me.

The way I want you
to leave me wanting again.
For R
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