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In twilight's hush, where our sighs softly fade,
Beneath your gaze, my lonely world begins to shift.
Your lips on mine, my shy resolve will melt,
As fragile walls of fear begin decay.
With every breath, our trembling bodies transform,
A silent vow to love — endure.

Through stormy nights, our passion will endure,
As the fog of past silence start to fade.
Your hands on my thighs, my spirit starts, transform,
Unfurling petals as my defenses shift.
In the heat of us, like hail, inhibitions decay,
Like sun-kissed snow, slowly, we melt.

Dawn breathes, and into each other we deeply melt,
Our roots, explore, a stronger love to endure.
What once was fear, now honeyed sweetness, decay,
As shadows of old hurts begin to fade.
With every challenge faced, our love learns to shift,
In full bloom, as seasons gently transform.

Years pass, and still our joined hearts transform,
Time's trials make us bend but never melt.
Life's rivers carve new paths, yet we still shift,
Together, building new havens to endure.
Though youthful bloom on skin may softly fade,
Our passion feeds on rich and fertile decay.

From this rich soil of necessary decay,
We nurture love, watch it grow and transform.
The first spark of desire refuses to fade,
Into each other’s depths, we willingly melt.
Our bond, forged in fire, destined to endure,
As steadfast as the stars that nightly shift.

Like tides that breathe and sway, our moods may shift,
But our deep core of love resists all decay.
This flame between us, constant, will endure,
Each touch, each glance, continues to transform.
Two souls, forever destined to softly melt,
A whispered union nothing to ever fade.

Though time may swiftly shift, and surface beauty fade,
Love's gentle decay helps us deeply endure.
We transform, melt, forever as one.
Without her, I am a lone wave cast adrift,
Where salted winds and whispers lure me more;
Her water, lost love, remains my soul’s true gift,
Recalling nights of bare skin, on earth-warmed, shore.

I sense her rhythm in the ocean’s score,
A chord of flesh and salty tears allure;
Her pulse, a tide that bids my soul restore,
In lustful waves where dreams and desires endure.

I, the lone wave, feel her touch in every surge,
Where breezes hum on dunes with whispered care;
Her love flows, andante, in rhythms we emerge,
A salt-kissed ballad breathed on coastal air.

Thus, in my depths, her water, a sonnet farewell,
Gaia’s Soothing Haven mourns love’s endless swell.
Roots crave the storm that splits slits wide—  
her mouth, a monsoon, hymns the altar of my hips.  
Bloom, collapse—the flower’s suicide.  

We harmonize in rot, two parasite brides—  
her tongue, moonlight, laps my bark’s eclipse.  
Roots crave the storm that splits slits wide,  

though thorns pierce our palms (we clutch, deranged, we lied).  
Her breath, a serpent, hisses through my lips:  
Bloom, collapse—the flower’s suicide.  

My spine, a stalk; her teeth strip back the rind.  
She peels me raw—a lyre of nerves, unzipped.  
Roots crave the storm that splits slits wide—  

each gasp, a flood; each bruise, a psalm denied.  
We drown in mud, the earth a sloppy kiss of silt.  
Bloom, collapse—the flower’s suicide.  

The hollow stalk still sings the storm’s refrain—  
But hunger’s her religion. I’m her crypt.  
Roots crave the storm that splits slits wide.  
Bloom, collapse—the flower’s suicide.
I want more than a no-deposit love,  
No swipe-right ghosts in AI’s deep mind,  
But roots that grip beneath love’s steadfast streams.

Your touch—a language no algo could define,  
Let our wild and free fingers each explore,
I want more than a no-deposit love,  
No swipe-right ghosts in AI’s deep mind,  

My body yearns for tides, not screen's pale shine—  
Not the mute glow where lost texts ignore,
Each match, a ghost that the void, forevermore—  
I want more than a no-deposit love,  
No swipe-right ghosts in AI’s deep mind,  
But roots that grip beneath love’s steadfast streams.
This poem is in the form of an English Madrigal
The snows retreat, our longing begins crafting dreams, hope.
Like autumn’s hush, at our feet slip silken seams, hope.

The daily grind lives, yet in your arms I’m home, hope.
We long to sip again where skin’s moonlit gleams, hope.

Short days? We’ll stitch the dark with moans—no guilt, no worries, hope.
Your pulse, my compass—we’ll sail this thaw like a stream, hope.

No holidays—we’ll burn the hours in sweat’s hot baths, hope.
Your nails carve rivers where my shivers melt to cream, hope.

No sun? We’ll braid our shadows into one fevered trance, hope.
Your tongue maps constellations where my hips scream, hope.

Resolutions faded, we invent new desires, hope.
Savoring new rhythms, our lips capture sunlit beams, hope.

Secret places—your mouth, a vineyard, overgrown, free, hope.  
We’ll bloom where the soil forgets frost, where wild things seem, hope.

Luna & Sol—no storm can quench what our skins believe, hope.
In Gaia’s soothing haven, we chase our wildest schemes, hope.
A naturist, I shed the day’s tight notes—  
My flesh unbinds as cello strings softly sway
The bath exhales a vapor-softened throat,  
Its liquid song dissolves the stress of day.

You breach my silence while my fingers play—
No words, just layers pooled where footsteps passed.  
The water hums a frequency unchained,  
Your back rests softly, knows my ******* are cast.

Your fingers trace my folds, our tones slowly grow—
A throbbing drone our mingled pores now greet.  
The soundscape swells where flesh begins to know
The crush of solitude our heat completes.  

The water cools, yet still our bodies own  
Two silences embraced by undertow.
Her lips, now draw so near mine—
static hums,
lightning sings,
my fingertips zing.

Our breath suspends in flight,
threads pulled oh so tight;
My hunger coils—
her taste, pure starlight.

Our flesh enraptures,
trembles nearly bare—
a storm unfolds,
surging ever slowly— there.
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