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"consenting" poems
i must give you a full physical exam to fully grasp my prognosis and plan of treatment for you... dont be afraid i feel confident, no need to debate i can satisfy and gratify your pre-dic-ament in the richest succulent as a specialist, to some degree my healing hands work expertly but to receive full and complete treatment you must partake my honey rather frequent for a better plan of action i require a full body transfusion a chemical mixture of center fuses a delicate blending of our juices this may require several procedures over time it provides many features healing properties of your most vital ***** however worth it, even if, it cost a fortune to this a can guarantee success but first you must fully undress i work with energy transference your help required for successful convergence of the best possible results between two consenting adults bartering is certainly a viable option for your long term medical condition providing equal services for each other helps maintain balance to one another
0
Mar 28, 2017
Mar 28, 2017 at 1:01 AM UTC
Doctor, Doctor give me the news
What is it about this chase that eludes me That runs away from me That seeks to experience and then flee me Until I get hijacked by another Consenting to my own free fall into ignorance and bliss Conditioning myself to transmit Abundance without reservation Until shot at the knee But dragged along for a while longer By the chains I so genuinely let bind me And even before the wounds have healed I don't stop running, I won't stop running Resolute in a chase that targets me I do so unconditionally But you can't hijack my senses I am not an experience or experiment worth having I am not a temporary treat to be improperly digested and defecated I am not an amber that ignites upon initial contact To then be mediated or extinguished if the temperate is not right I am not the holy water that you colonize And shower with to cleanse you To then invalidate that sanctity When it falls down the drain I am not a barometer that reliefs the labor Needed to challenge the aberrations Of your colonized and colonizing tendencies I exist Physically insignificant As the earth that birthed me and will bury me But eternal in essence I am a permanent presence I am an unforgettable imprint I am your equal, no less, no more The moment that we mutually acknowledge Each other's existence I have bound myself to you From that moment...loved you unconditionally and eternally And expect no lesser commitment From you to me, or any other person you meet And even after the wounds have healed I don't stop running, I won't stop running Resolute in a chase that targets us We must unleash our abundance unconditionally And when we leave We will have given Absolutely everything That we had to give During that time of our existence
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Mar 6, 2015
Mar 6, 2015 at 8:07 PM UTC
Polyamority and the Practice of Abundance
What is it about this chase that eludes me That runs away from me That seeks to experience and then flee me Until I get hijacked by another Consenting to my own free fall into ignorance and bliss Conditioning myself to transmit Abundance without reservation Until shot at the knee But dragged along for a while longer By the chains I so genuinely let bind me And even before the wounds have healed I don't stop running, I won't stop running Resolute in a chase that targets me I do so unconditionally But you can't hijack my senses I am not an experience or experiment worth having I am not a temporary treat to be improperly digested and defecated I am not an amber that ignites upon initial contact To then be mediated or extinguished if the temperate is not right I am not the holy water that you colonize And shower with to cleanse you To then invalidate that sanctity When it falls down the drain I am not a barometer that reliefs the labor Needed to challenge the aberrations Of your colonized and colonizing tendencies I exist Physically insignificant As the earth that birthed me and will bury me But eternal in essence I am a permanent presence I am an unforgettable imprint I am your equal, no less, no more The moment that we mutually acknowledge Each other's existence I have bound myself to you From that moment...loved you unconditionally and eternally And expect no lesser commitment From you to me, or any other person you meet And even after the wounds have healed I don't stop running, I won't stop running Resolute in a chase that targets us We must unleash our abundance unconditionally And when we leave We will have given Absolutely everything That we had to give During that time of our existence
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48
. The sight of your femininity, beauty, draws breath from your perfect form, swaying, flirting, a stunning visual love, with swoon fantasy and anticipated arousal. The aroma of your perfume, honeysuckle, drifts lazily from your elegant neck, teasing, promising, a consenting floral love, with delicate grace and scented arousal. The tone of your voice, seductive, velvet whispers from your deepest want, lilting, singing, a desperate lyrical love, with inviting sound and timbred arousal. The taste of your mouth, sweetness, drips honey from your delicate lips, flowing, flooding, a desire sugared love, with urgent passion and oral arousal. The feel of your body, intimate, drapes sensual from your soft skin, clothing, wrapping, a flesh blanket love, with spine tingles and fingertip arousal. You fill up my senses, stunned, conflicting feelings play with my mind, heat, lust, a primal instinct love, frozen in time and with frightening arousal. © Pagan Paul (25/06/17)
0
Jun 25, 2017
Jun 25, 2017 at 6:56 PM UTC
You Fill Up My Senses
My response to you has always been focused. This has gladly not been over looked by you. I have become thoughtlessly biddable and amenable for you, especially in the morning light. I am consenting, compelled yet not obliged .......... You have discovered I am nothing but a girl from a circus. I never tried to hide it. You weren't looking before. Although I am a fan of amusements, fetes and even frolics, I do refrain from favoring all tricks. My indulgence in foolery is a sport I plan to employ for a while yet. Do I care for you to join me and see if I can defy your desire for extracurricular activities, as well as being your carer? Is this a task a clown would pretend was a harmless challenge. Perhaps not, perhaps so. My roots are raw and loyal to the art of play. I need you to know this and hold it. A Spanish fly will not be able to satisfy my ears alone? Sincerity can be a sharp business sometimes. Obedience to attachment brings around a credulous familiarity thus a dependency It could easily keep me awake to stare at many moons It hasn't. You have seen me stumble and look at you gingerly more than once now You are not even delicate but you can be shrewd even when you struggle with expectation. There is a soberness about your beauty I find pleasingly magnetic. When you leave me alone without your mighty graze I without question appreciate and yearn for your persuasions and rough tenderness. Your actions maybe more savory in the afternoons compared with your visits to my buoyant dreams but you do kindly hold open doors.
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Sep 27, 2011
Sep 27, 2011 at 2:21 PM UTC
Pampered pleasure
My response to you has always been focused. This has gladly not been over looked by you. I have become thoughtlessly biddable and amenable for you, especially in the morning light. I am consenting, compelled yet not obliged .......... You have discovered I am nothing but a girl from a circus. I never tried to hide it. You weren't looking before. Although I am a fan of amusements, fetes and even frolics, I do refrain from favoring all tricks. My indulgence in foolery is a sport I plan to employ for a while yet. Do I care for you to join me and see if I can defy your desire for extracurricular activities, as well as being your carer? Is this a task a clown would pretend was a harmless challenge. Perhaps not, perhaps so. My roots are raw and loyal to the art of play. I need you to know this and hold it. A Spanish fly will not be able to satisfy my ears alone? Sincerity can be a sharp business sometimes. Obedience to attachment brings around a credulous familiarity thus a dependency It could easily keep me awake to stare at many moons It hasn't. You have seen me stumble and look at you gingerly more than once now You are not even delicate but you can be shrewd even when you struggle with expectation. There is a soberness about your beauty I find pleasingly magnetic. When you leave me alone without your mighty graze I without question appreciate and yearn for your persuasions and rough tenderness. Your actions maybe more savory in the afternoons compared with your visits to my buoyant dreams but you do kindly hold open doors.
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25
Never-ending, incessant inspiration, is welcomed by the hand Sweetly held treasured from the very start As a silken caress of soothing persuasion, stirring the steady flow Of your imagination, nestled gently in your heart A release of cherished wonders, splendid in their course Dignify the expression in their flow With the breath of enticing bits of passionate emotion Gratifying in their bliss, pleasing as they show Deeply captivating is the gravitation to incessant inspiration Ensnaring and hypnotizing the consenting soul To express admiration with a measure of immense flourish As an exhale of unrestrained emotion with no control If you find you are intensely drawn into this sweet continuum Of fascination gently rippling in the flow Treasure the inspiration nestled gently in your heart Express your imagination in the show
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Jul 22, 2010
Jul 22, 2010 at 6:18 PM UTC
Incessant Inspiration
I woke up on the gurney with pain that robs my breath. Broken ribs and a row of sutures running down between my ******* Strange to still be breathing when my heart is dead and gone In my chest Abio-Cor stubbornly pumps on. Was it really just a week ago sitting with my friends  in class when first I felt the stabbing pain. when each breath came as a gasp? My teacher called an ambulance He saved my life, friends say. A muscle killing virus caused my pulse to fade away. One hundred over forty I was quickly losing ground. I would need a donor transplant but none compatible was found. I’m a high school girl, just seventeen -I should be college bound Not fighting for each breath and destined for a plot of ground. The surgeon asked my parents if he should try Abio-Cor an artificial heart replacement in which researchers placed great store. My crying parents, grasped the straw consenting he should try. They would operate immediately- delay would mean I’d die. So now I’m in recovery with my artificial heart. My fiends call me the Tin Girl, because of my replacement part. It will be a long recovery- seven weeks if fate is kind.. I share my feelings with a heart still learning to be mine
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Dec 3, 2011
Dec 3, 2011 at 7:25 PM UTC
The Tin Girl
I stand in your eyes Looking out for the whole world to see With the fabric of death staring at me Its just you and me On the edge of heaven Mending distances as we begin Ghastly gray hours littered my ears Intensly intrusive and ****** The shadows spill stringently Stamping the sky with feelings of insufficiency The bitter breeze dreamers, protesting for peace Beyond all countries and downward dreams We heave our head, heart, and soul The handfuls of gestures surrender the way A taut twine traveled behind With waves coiling and bending my mind Dying eyelashes recaptured my memories as they danced upon my face A once swollen spirit is a ripped fragment away Consenting with out my say Death burst your core The life of limbs, once excitable and strong A strong windswept set my ambivalence at bay As I lay trembling, Soft secrets are told Relief from bottomless sufferings Loved ones long lost reunited with me My tounge has say much to say as words sail As the wisps of heaven begin to show me the way
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Jul 29, 2013
Jul 29, 2013 at 1:32 AM UTC
Eyelash Dance
It started out As something simple Consenting adults Enjoying each other's company Nothing more But things are changing for me I used to only think About how much you Turned me on Now when I think of you I remember how it feels When you put your hand On my face, my back I remember how it feels When you kiss my forehead And look me in the eyes How it feels to just Sit and talk with you I remember every time You put your arms around me The little squeezes I remember laying in bed Looking at you My hands tracing your face Running across your chest Up and down your arms Now I'm not saying that I'm falling in love or anything But my feelings will only grow And it might be a problem
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Apr 13, 2018
Apr 13, 2018 at 11:54 AM UTC
Just My Feelings
Qliphoth, Qliphoth, Qliphoth, Qliphoth roar the horses hooves of the apocalyptic Eloah like a bull of Bashan which under ye terror unto thee; unspeakable, the secrets of truth traducing these thy habiliments of bread and wine, creatures, as if they were apples of ***** the staff of life; cossetting lambent judgement peril to the duetoronomy of novice pyre souls not safe to dwell where those who venture fear to tread travelling the road to Damascus, pontifical with emerald honesty venatic of consenting stars pealing Dabar-Yahweh as if a song sung to the shell of Heaven. Eleete j muir
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Oct 10, 2013
Oct 10, 2013 at 10:57 PM UTC
Bleeding Rhemas
I apologize if I'm too persistent in telling you that you matter to me and my heart in ways no one ever has. I've become melancholy in the thought of being alone since I have never been treated like anything but a waste of space and values on a clock. Years have gone by since I've felt like I truly existed to anyone for reasons beyond carnal need and emotional comprehension. I'm not accustomed to feeling a purpose. I've become distant from my own mental standpoint and blood-pumping center whereas I can find no direction. I've been abandoned by those who claimed they would never surrender. I've been damaged by those who stated they could never, would never, misuse me. When you re-arrived in this shattered existence of mine and evaluated me as an actual being with sentimental value, instead of falling apart, I found myself falling together. Every last piece of me discovering the significance of who I am, always have been, and hopefully always will be. I lost multiple opportunities in which I could express to you the amount I care for your entire essence, I could beg to show you now. However, I will do so as you're willing. Prepared. Consenting. Wanting. You appeared in my life and became a part of the character I never expected to be. "Tu me manques." You are missing from me.
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Feb 3, 2014
Feb 3, 2014 at 9:40 PM UTC
You Are Missing From Me
Do I chase or do I run? Do I hide Or do I seek? What happened to those fairy tales? Those knights of old, Those gentleman so bold. It’s only in the movies I said, It’s only in the books I’ve read. There are no fairy tale endings anymore. There are no damsels in distress, No longer okay to be weak. No longer okay to be meek. There are no knights in shinning armour. Chivalry is dead Individuality deceased. Romanticism was just a painting. An 18th century joke. To rally the oppressed and the yoke. It’s pointless to go on wishing, For that man that can read your mind. There is no sense in feigning interest And consenting to being blind. So I shall set down my feminine **** Of dragons and unicorns, And men so bold. Move on and back to reality And ingest the hypocrisy. Take my flowers My chocolates, and “I love you” ‘ s And live in harmony? Cough! Cough! Uh sorry And live in my romantic fatality.
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Sep 27, 2010
Sep 27, 2010 at 9:28 PM UTC
Wanted: Knights in Shinning Armour
Craving the crack of the whip possessing the flesh Before it hits the air, the breath of the bound captive Hearing in the silence of the caressing hand a touch Pored out behind the shackles, the feathers, the rules Trying to make sense of the frustration and delusive Desire of the entangled ******* rough and intricate mesh Taking off all misunderstanding, embracing your blush A sort of rituals of carnal, Sir, Mistress, Save Our Souls. Bound to love the feeling of expectancy in a dark room Dealing with all traumas and successes bending a knee Savoring the exquisite or frightful balance of pleasure Muttering an ****** language known by all yet dreaded A scene in which your persona stages a fantasy With a consenting partner or in your mind, it is easy There is no self-help book for this topic, it all takes place In your body and your heart, you decide if you keep pace Power plays challenge your equilibrium, your lust Whether you believe in a prophet or in flesh and dust The beginning is near and she carries all your hidden rites If only you would disrobe and lie down in many of your nights. Lyon, July 28, 2017 11:04 pm
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Jul 28, 2017
Jul 28, 2017 at 5:06 PM UTC
On power play, a poetic discussion
An indistinct smell of wood primer fills my bedroom as glitzy images hover above my head of you, wearing over-all's and painting our picket fence white. It turns me on and I start removing my clothes, alone, though I want you to be doing this for me. Increasing the pace within minutes, I touch myself to the thought of our first Christmas and getting used to your shampoo. Massaging every settled-in scar, consenting to the electricity passing through, that make all of the unresponsive parts of me, finally, effervescent and vigorous. Envisioning us making love at that waterfall and now my fingers are soaked but it should be yours and I really want you to be doing this for me. Quivering and tearing up, I have never felt so satisfied and unruffled having an ****** to the thought of a future with you. But Oh, to lie down in bed at night, alone, without your hand in mine, it forces me to love myself. Even though, I really, really want you to be doing that for me.
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Nov 3, 2014
Nov 3, 2014 at 3:26 PM UTC
10:18pm
He walks back to my welcoming doorstep, Hand over his face. I ask him what happened... what his emotions are. He reveals a smile. As he opens his mouth to reply, I already know. I hug him hard. Surprised, he whispers, "How could you tell?" His face is an open book. "I just know. Was it good? What was her reaction?" I smile as he blushes. "She was pretty confused, but it was good." He's excited. Careful, I thought, hold in that new, unbridled mustang. Don't become too wild. "Tell me everything. From the beginning." Consenting, He sat down by me. "We were dancing, but got too tired. We sat down. We'd only been there for an hour and a half, But we were exhausted. She was flushed, but laughing. We had just Danced the polka." Inside my head, I imagined their dancing. I snorted. "What?" He asked, a confused smile lingering On his tanned face. "Oh, nothing," I quickly assured him. "Continue!" He didn't notice my head shaking as he went back To his dreamy expression. "Well, I asked if I could get her punch... She said 'No, it's fine.' So we just sat for a minute, music playing. And... I felt it." "Felt what?" I asked, trying to remind him That I was still there. "That overwhelming urge... so, I leaned over, And asked if I could. She was so surprised, and that made me A little sad. But she reached a slender hand towards Her neck. She pulled the necklace I made her into the light. Its reflections danced." He had made her a necklace on the finest chain, Delicately, carefully. "Staring at it, a smile crept over her face. *'Okay. You can kiss me.'*" He looked like he could sit there for hours, Remembering. I had to nudge him along. "So.... what happened then? What'd you do?" He looked at me, as if surprised to suddenly find me there Next to him. "Oh... umm... well, of course I kissed her! What else?" His eyes spoke volumes. "Yeah... I got that part... but how?" Sometimes I had to remember That boys weren't girls. If he were my sister, we would have talked for hours About one kiss. But, this time it was my brother, and I needed To be patient. "Well, I leaned down, eager but a little hesitant. An inch from her, Her lips reached to mine." Satisfied now, I watched him stare at the stars. Quietly, I went inside. As I looked out the window at him, his eyes still searching For answers in the moon, I wondered how I became so experienced, so knowing About love, And wondered how I managed to give advice to those I love, Advice that's useful, When I have never yet experienced love for myself, except In my dreams.
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Apr 22, 2013
Apr 22, 2013 at 7:02 AM UTC
Aching Solitude
He walks back to my welcoming doorstep, Hand over his face. I ask him what happened... what his emotions are. He reveals a smile. As he opens his mouth to reply, I already know. I hug him hard. Surprised, he whispers, "How could you tell?" His face is an open book. "I just know. Was it good? What was her reaction?" I smile as he blushes. "She was pretty confused, but it was good." He's excited. Careful, I thought, hold in that new, unbridled mustang. Don't become too wild. "Tell me everything. From the beginning." Consenting, He sat down by me. "We were dancing, but got too tired. We sat down. We'd only been there for an hour and a half, But we were exhausted. She was flushed, but laughing. We had just Danced the polka." Inside my head, I imagined their dancing. I snorted. "What?" He asked, a confused smile lingering On his tanned face. "Oh, nothing," I quickly assured him. "Continue!" He didn't notice my head shaking as he went back To his dreamy expression. "Well, I asked if I could get her punch... She said 'No, it's fine.' So we just sat for a minute, music playing. And... I felt it." "Felt what?" I asked, trying to remind him That I was still there. "That overwhelming urge... so, I leaned over, And asked if I could. She was so surprised, and that made me A little sad. But she reached a slender hand towards Her neck. She pulled the necklace I made her into the light. Its reflections danced." He had made her a necklace on the finest chain, Delicately, carefully. "Staring at it, a smile crept over her face. *'Okay. You can kiss me.'*" He looked like he could sit there for hours, Remembering. I had to nudge him along. "So.... what happened then? What'd you do?" He looked at me, as if surprised to suddenly find me there Next to him. "Oh... umm... well, of course I kissed her! What else?" His eyes spoke volumes. "Yeah... I got that part... but how?" Sometimes I had to remember That boys weren't girls. If he were my sister, we would have talked for hours About one kiss. But, this time it was my brother, and I needed To be patient. "Well, I leaned down, eager but a little hesitant. An inch from her, Her lips reached to mine." Satisfied now, I watched him stare at the stars. Quietly, I went inside. As I looked out the window at him, his eyes still searching For answers in the moon, I wondered how I became so experienced, so knowing About love, And wondered how I managed to give advice to those I love, Advice that's useful, When I have never yet experienced love for myself, except In my dreams.
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74
There once was a girl named Suzzie. I guess you could say Suzzie was missing some vital screws in her younger years. All day and all night, Suzzie would amuse to enthuse, until the point of misuse. Before finding herself reusing. Relapsing into that old familiar abuse.   You could say, Suzzie wasn't content in her life. Hell-bent on the decent into torment. *** violence... drugs...* And to what extent...   Consenting to the need? Proceeding to only concede? The black bead... The devilish **** A seed to heed warning too. All day and all night, Suzzie would churn. Yearning for her upturn, for the point of no return. Instead Suzzie turned her life around. A full 360. She learned, to earn. Spurred by her yearning and churning, of a childhood induced coma. Kindness; rightness... The mere brightness all from Suzzie's mindset. A guidance from the righteous highness. She's won her inner crisis at last! "Bye, bye Black Tar, Suzzie!" "Hello, the newer better you!"
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Aug 28, 2014
Aug 28, 2014 at 12:02 AM UTC
Black Tar, Suzzie.
Disjoining this coterie dissolves it's fragments in Unison Dispersal to all borders with hasty charge Contracted to bide Consenting inside a concord Of Visceral culpability to Re-Integrate Incontrovertibly
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Oct 11, 2010
Oct 11, 2010 at 1:50 AM UTC
An Inevitable Commingling
Island in gathered Lavender sheets Lilliputian dregs congeal - Missed shots in the dark Slack-mouth “no” Echoes in peeling paint Globules of restrained *** Hollow my form I touch my own lips Not consenting to their last Tryst. Marlboro reds cling to Salivary memory Turning in my tongue – Tucked along the Cusp of my teeth Pressing Trying to expel the taste I spit Flecks spatter amidst His-release…
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Feb 28, 2014
Feb 28, 2014 at 6:45 PM UTC
Splattered
Owning only stolen air, I function, uniquely To gently own the unseen Felt feelings, I look to master, The tiniest remnants,  tattered Torn and misappropriation rule Fantastic forbidden fragment Fall into hell, held, unshared No podium,... no speaker,... nor a crowd, of any sorts stirring Aggitating,  aggrieved masses slaves in their blissless mindset
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Jun 10, 2015
Jun 10, 2015 at 8:55 PM UTC
Consenting To All But The Meaning
Overslept and tired. An early start 17 hours a day. Broken with slashes of sound. 7.43 million Motorbikes in ** Chi Minh City. The street flowers dying, no air to breath. And miles to go before you sleep. The grass consenting to the dollar, packs up and leaves the city. Returning, resuming, threading your way between the grey faces. And the men looking for someone special today. The hurt and wounded pass by quickly. No soothing hand to pacify the restless all dark nights. Some suffer so much.
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Aug 3, 2018
Aug 3, 2018 at 8:13 AM UTC
Movement in the City
I can't stop thinking about you still Yet, i know missing you is not the right thing to do Not that i can help it, each time a thousand thoughts of you flock my consenting mind But, my well nurtured hurt has become the antidote, It sedates the uprising of memorable moments we once shared. Now, each time I think of our happy moments, Sadness thereby follows, and then, pain...
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Aug 14, 2015
Aug 14, 2015 at 8:03 PM UTC
My Hurt
The summer freckles the boys, tucking in the grasses in their masses, forgetting what their mothers sang. Their love burns in blood-stream blaze, becomes heat and nothing else and nothing else. Our sun set late, so they pray for consenting girls that feed wrists into freckled hands to brand themselves, bruised and brown.
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Oct 10, 2018
Oct 10, 2018 at 4:14 PM UTC
Freckled Boys
going to rise up early with lady or three in my king sized bed. heading for the mall seeking lonely cute ladies. throw out a few compliments women buy it they believe you sincere. women have many big fears grey hair wrinkles and crows feet being alone growing old alone getting fat not getting dates dying spinsters. i will play on what makes them happy i will get a woman to spend new year's eve with me and all night. easy when you built from work outs easy when you got a face women like easy telling women what they want to hear throw out some lies tell them they pretty tell them you love them tell them anything nice feed their egos I say their pretty i pour wine and they sip my lying gets kisses tasting of wine. women believe me because I look sincere when it lie. my business suit nice car expensive watch gets them in my car gets me in their house gets me in the house when husbands are away gets me a squeeze of a breast or knee gets me body kisses gets me body shots gets me to any base i want. easy getting a date on new year's eve or any day of the year i lie they buy it i get what i want what i want is *** what i love is *** and more *** *** addict i don't want help easy getting fixes for my habit women will be women pathetic desperate for attention hitching a ride on a gravy train for security i play to that lie they want to hear. no security with me it's playing to what they want i get my fix of *** then on to the next lonely woman and the next. no crime between consenting adults. one thinking it's the real one knowing he is in it just for ***
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Dec 29, 2013
Dec 29, 2013 at 6:54 PM UTC
new year's plans
going to rise up early with lady or three in my king sized bed. heading for the mall seeking lonely cute ladies. throw out a few compliments women buy it they believe you sincere. women have many big fears grey hair wrinkles and crows feet being alone growing old alone getting fat not getting dates dying spinsters. i will play on what makes them happy i will get a woman to spend new year's eve with me and all night. easy when you built from work outs easy when you got a face women like easy telling women what they want to hear throw out some lies tell them they pretty tell them you love them tell them anything nice feed their egos I say their pretty i pour wine and they sip my lying gets kisses tasting of wine. women believe me because I look sincere when it lie. my business suit nice car expensive watch gets them in my car gets me in their house gets me in the house when husbands are away gets me a squeeze of a breast or knee gets me body kisses gets me body shots gets me to any base i want. easy getting a date on new year's eve or any day of the year i lie they buy it i get what i want what i want is *** what i love is *** and more *** *** addict i don't want help easy getting fixes for my habit women will be women pathetic desperate for attention hitching a ride on a gravy train for security i play to that lie they want to hear. no security with me it's playing to what they want i get my fix of *** then on to the next lonely woman and the next. no crime between consenting adults. one thinking it's the real one knowing he is in it just for ***
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69
The Gansevoort Hotel is where he chose to meet. I followed the travel directions which he texted and I showed up on time. I was led into the suite and waited an hour; the diplomat was late. I was forewarned that in the event that he did not appear, that I was to stay put, enjoy the room for the night, all services and non-services or room charges would be handled at his end, privately, of course. This is not the norm for me so please don't get it wrong! It was nothing more than a business transaction behind closed doors, between two consenting adults. But, as it turned out, I fell asleep, there was no ******** I devoured my breakfast the following morning, still got paid and hopped on a Bronx-bound train, home. That was the easiest soldi I have ever made. I never heard from the diplomat again.
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Aug 26, 2014
Aug 26, 2014 at 6:46 PM UTC
The Diplomat
# *What cannot my praise effect in your singular mind? When flattery soothes – or when ambition is blind! Desire of the heart, is it an earthly vicious seed? Yet, sprung from high, is it nothing but a **** But to God 'tis its glory and when love aspires, 'Tis but a spark of the most heavenliest of fires. To the ambitious youth, thou too covetous of the flame, Too full of the vermin running throughout thy frame. Unwarily led astray from any virtuous ways - Made drunk with love, and somehow debauched with praise. Half desire, and half consenting to the ness of the ill, For in the blood the sentiment - cannot it be still? To thee I must reply — pray thee - what pretense have I, To take up arms for justice or for your love’s liberty, I cry? Love governs with an unquestioning right, Love’s the defender and love’s the delight. Be ye good, be gracious, be just, be observant of the laws, And in loving wonders - be ye especially espoused to love’s cause. Whom has love ever wronged in all its peaceful reign? Love cannot sue for justice for any judgement would be in vain. What millions has love pardoned or has taken on as foes? To what revenge does love get even or even mildly expose? Mild, easy, humble, studious and good, Always inclined toward mercy, never spilling any blood. If this is the love that you know put it on like a suit, For in you -  you have God's most beloved attribute.* #
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Jun 28, 2018
Jun 28, 2018 at 3:49 PM UTC
The Answer