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#sated
these things, I scribble, some call them poems, and that suits us both, though more likely, relief, to be parted from these pieces of me but I am sated, for today, many poems were thrown up to the sky, spaghetti strings, skywards facing, suitable for climbing, if so desired, some to fall into small graves, Others into hearts for to be your keepsakes but I, deeply sated… for each of you found the one you loved the best, for they exist soul-ly for your taking, consider them yours, because I do…
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Nov 2, 2025
Nov 2, 2025 at 9:46 PM UTC
tonite, I am more than satisfied...sated perhaps
I run to you your rhythm, your beat for a moment they're mine and we breathe together, breathe I run to you your hunger, your need for a moment they're mine and we cleave together, cleave I run to you your sweet-wet, your greed for a moment they're mine and we feed together, feed
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Sep 11, 2022
Sep 11, 2022 at 12:15 PM UTC
you
All my journals disintegrate to poetry I begin a rant, One point, two points, Three in my head Happy, angry, silly or sad Rhetoric fully planned, This happened, then that, But soon, I begin uniting the words, Sentences connected in meter and time I'm lost in rhyme, pentameter, prose Sublime Lines flowing, My mind rolling, Memory erasing Lost in something, Distracted by creativity, Fulfilled by a need that's in me, Drained of the pent-up energy Satisfied, sated and understood by the page.
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Jul 24, 2018
Jul 24, 2018 at 5:25 PM UTC
All My Journals Disintegrate To Poetry
Yes, it's true ever her river runs She pierces with her eyes and flashes, with her tongue Passions and lusts, I envy she never **** up dry A mind and body full of needs God knows, I'm going to try Yes, it's truer than the oceans ever her river runs As every move, and motion leaves her sated, but never yet, undone I feel like I've been blessed each and every time Her touches and caress not just body, but of mind Yes, it's so **** true ever her river runs The wantings of the few feeling like, we've only just begun
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May 19, 2017
May 19, 2017 at 10:43 PM UTC
Her river, runs
You come in the night Wisp of vapour A spectre reaching out Waking me with your tendrils touch And the hunger within. You're the monster from my closet Come to haunt me again, You wear many faces and none Yet I know you As I know myself. My lust answers your need and I stiffen even as my will melts beneath the icy flames of your ghoulish desire. I give in, relinquish control and with it my identity, My soul is yours to devour, Which you do with great relish, As we both reach again for that taste of ecstasy. Too soon it is over, You return to the depths beneath my bed, Back into my closet with your fellow demons, Mostly forgotten, But for the smile on my face As I slip into a sated sleep Even as I pray That you never visit again.
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Jul 3, 2014
Jul 3, 2014 at 4:18 AM UTC
You Come in the Night