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"arousingly" poems
Whispering her smile Looking beatific, Looking arousingly terrific, Uninvited but invitingly, Place my pointer finger Upon her breast, ******* already attentive, *****  she preps to dance and to Leave me Bid her despedida, For my adieu is tinged With desperation internal raging, For tantalizing, J'accuse, Guilty as charged My tango muse, Off to dance in dives, Where all the men are Strangers, who paid in cash, With creased and stained $20 bills, To soil themselves, to dance with my woman, Paid far in advance. For consorting with the enemy, I renounce her not, but guilty charged, For mesmerizing, J'accuse, Guilty as charged She'll return, after three, Undress before me, Purportedly sleeping, Pointedly, slowly, knowingly, To insure I scent the sweat That tango demands, The ****** side effects, The Argentines invented, Accoutrement rituals, Excuses to invent dance, In order to pleasure intensity, For teasing w/o mercy, J'accuse, Guilty as charged She chambers her body bullet, Sliding in unrobed, For a negligee would be Negligent in her condition, Laughing at my pretend closed eyes, She whispers,: I return here, to you For one reason alone Despite soul and body, exhilarated, While gone, you have been composing About me without permission, Of  this, of thee, J'accuse! I know you have penned Poem, Which long after the dance thrill has chilled, Will belong to me forever, I will kiss you now so I may taste the Words  that are mine, until next week, When I will be guilty again Of charging your imagination
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Jun 20, 2013
Jun 20, 2013 at 12:17 AM UTC
Every Wednesday Night, She Tangoes With Someone Else
Whispering her smile Looking beatific, Looking arousingly terrific, Uninvited but invitingly, Place my pointer finger Upon her breast, ******* already attentive, *****  she preps to dance and to Leave me Bid her despedida, For my adieu is tinged With desperation internal raging, For tantalizing, J'accuse, Guilty as charged My tango muse, Off to dance in dives, Where all the men are Strangers, who paid in cash, With creased and stained $20 bills, To soil themselves, to dance with my woman, Paid far in advance. For consorting with the enemy, I renounce her not, but guilty charged, For mesmerizing, J'accuse, Guilty as charged She'll return, after three, Undress before me, Purportedly sleeping, Pointedly, slowly, knowingly, To insure I scent the sweat That tango demands, The ****** side effects, The Argentines invented, Accoutrement rituals, Excuses to invent dance, In order to pleasure intensity, For teasing w/o mercy, J'accuse, Guilty as charged She chambers her body bullet, Sliding in unrobed, For a negligee would be Negligent in her condition, Laughing at my pretend closed eyes, She whispers,: I return here, to you For one reason alone Despite soul and body, exhilarated, While gone, you have been composing About me without permission, Of  this, of thee, J'accuse! I know you have penned Poem, Which long after the dance thrill has chilled, Will belong to me forever, I will kiss you now so I may taste the Words  that are mine, until next week, When I will be guilty again Of charging your imagination
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58
as the ocean sounds serenade this wonderful night to sleep, the darkened shade on your pupil gives room for stars to glimmer and sway. whilst these tides and binding euphoria meet, the soundtrack of our love will be on loop like church hymns on Easter sunday
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Apr 1, 2017
Apr 1, 2017 at 8:15 AM UTC
jazz notes
you have me, but i'm not sure if i have you, though. i paused. it's thirteen minutes past twelve in the morning and i was on top of you. your steady breaths and the ticking of the clock was all i can hear. a sweat trickled down my bare chest as you stare longingly. the moans and the word 'faster' didn't fill the room anymore. "what's wrong?" you asked. every night is a bittersweet reality, something that i would think of as a chimera full of used underwear.  every night is a catharsis; i knew, the way 'babe' escaped from your lips arousingly when i go further tells me so. every night our souls would crash briefly, but every tomorrow i see myself on the mirror and the word 'temporary' is etched on my face. you ****** your way into my heart, that's what's wrong and i didn't even know it. i was too caught up with the thought of your tongue exploring my restless body. you paused, placed me on your side, and stood up. tonight, you smoked away the last stick of hope i had on the side of my bed; where you reside after everytime we did it. tonight, you're moving out. you'll always have me, but i'll never have you, though.
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Jul 14, 2017
Jul 14, 2017 at 10:29 AM UTC
paused