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"enticingly" poems
With a body wrapped in a crimson dress, she bears a violent temper. Shining daylight, raging bewitching, captivating cunning. You arrive with starry eyes and cheeks flushed like a ****** In her curly hair, autumn curtains hang—roaming rays hot. She glows in the night like a pictorial wall with hieroglyphics concealing madness. You step elegantly, but you're a dangerously stealthy predator. Grassy hills in floating flames burn beneath a voluminous haze. Her look describes fabulous waterfalls, endlessly flowing and shining in the coming dawn. You associate with robbers and kings, but they do not understand, and no one will save you. Lovely eyes sprinkle enchanting rays, her lips intertwined like a rose petal. Her heart enticingly calls with her fruit to be drunk. You hide in the nightlife, dress up, and do your love magic. Neck fashioned in autumnal garments, wearing scarlet ruby earrings. Her pink skin smells of perfume, inviting like a grape on a vine. You invite visitors with your charm to carelessness, forever forced. Her lips are flowing bewitching rivers—intersecting strokes of crimson. They bring a dream to taste her deep soils and her artfully carved forms. You are determined to captivate without marrying— you stay lost in rebellion.
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Sep 25, 2023
Sep 25, 2023 at 6:19 AM UTC
Scarlet
An imaginary but desirable sense of control Created by the bully in my head Screaming at me, pressuring me, hurting me Encapsulating my mind as a second meninges. Impossible to separate my true thoughts From what it tells me, My conscious mind is tied to a cinder block And left to drown in its enticingly rough waves. My physical being constantly changing with the tide Unpredictable but regular, Shallow but deep. ****** into its infinite black hole, I am left feeling disgusted and ashamed Of all that is me. No longer am I able to decide the way in which My needs are met-if in fact they are met. As though I have DID, I am constantly bouncing From alter to alter Body to body. Blinded from looking directly into its sun, I am warmed and comforted by its rays While reassured that my doubts are unwarranted. If ever defied, it scolds and whips me, Like a master to his slave, A father to his child. The welts and cuts, gratefully rip into my Skin, muscle and bone – Punishment for my wrongdoings and self. I, immediately silenced Remove myself from society, Restricting contact, nourishment and emotions To nil. It is not until someone notices The beginnings of an eternal invisibility, That I am released and Able to breathe in The salty air of life.
0
Jun 20, 2012
Jun 20, 2012 at 9:29 PM UTC
An Eating Disorder Defined
365Nectar #42 Don't Be Judging Me Mon. November 4, 2013 8:26 P.M. Volcanic velvet voices vibrate the night like thunder in the distance. Booming Bassmen blaze and burn like ****** fire on a dark corner in the dingiest part of a rumbling city that never sleeps. Sensual saxophones shudder singing prayers of saints and sinners while hot horns hypnotize in perfect high compression swirls tithing in the holy temple of Jazzy Blues. An alluring flutter of silken harmonies. A spine tingling spike of don't be judging me jazz filled blues. Scorching strings splinter melancholy prison walls. Stomping out a seismic sizzle tempermental tones of tickling trumpets torch the menacing hurricanes of life with warm rushes of excitement. A spine tingling spike of don't be judging me jazz filled blues. "Take Me" Vixens tantalize tucked up crowds with thrilling tongue lashes of silken harmonies. A spine tingling spike of don't be judging me jazz filled blues. Full flaring flutes gently ****** with inquisitive fingers and stir a groan like a religious ritual. A playful teasing floating enticingly like a sly fox. Such a succulent piercing of moonstruck madness pulsing mercilessly leaving fields of fire of a funky boogie menace for a wild child. An alluring flutter of silken harmonies. A spine tingling spike of don't be judging me jazz filled blues. Copyright ©2013 Don't Be Judging Me
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Nov 11, 2013
Nov 11, 2013 at 11:52 AM UTC
Don't Be Judging Me
The world is not complex People just say it is to hide their bull **** excuses for self justification Let us give them our admiration for their condescending inspiration Lonely is fun when your enticingly crazy Never entirely board when your consumed in self argumentative rambling A gesture I call exciting I don't deny the chaos erupting from my skulls siding Nor should anybody I have a tendency of getting delighted the moment I put my animosity on display It's kind of like my you have a "blessed day" Yes I'm ok I have daily meetings with the counselor in my head and he said this is progress
0
May 28, 2016
May 28, 2016 at 1:48 PM UTC
Confused good
I recall her stripping me naked Then she danced around the bed Slowly, enticingly disrobing her voluptuous form Her firm breast bouncing free from her bra My ******** began to ache As she slipped her tounge around it's head Her ******* hard & rubbery adorned the fleshy mountains I saw Hands wrapped around each I stroked & squeezed & suckeled Her wet crotch sliding down my leg Left a sticky trail Her mouth found a throbing shift And stoked it to it's base Where there she ****** in my ***** And gently rolled them in her mouth And around her face Up the shaft she came again though this time it slide down Her throught, warm & wet & exhaled Again & again she went I almost surcumed I pushed her back And dove between her thighs My tounge found that sweet spot between the sticky lips Lapping up her sweet honey drips Sliding my tounge from one end to the other ******* on that harden **** Until she gushed more sticky stuff Then slowly I plunged as deep as I could Filling up  that sweet pink hole And there I plunged again & again Until my cheeks were sore Slowly I raised myself Hands upon her thighs Spreading her lovelyness As wide as she  could split She reached down & grabed my form Holding hard she guided it in Not even a chance to heav forwards SHE CAME UP KER BAM As she fell back I drove it home My ***** smacked her in the *** Stroking deep & slow at first There was no holding her back Bucking & bounching she managed to turn around so I got her from hehind She reached under & grabed my ***** Like a lease it was as she pulled me in Faster & faster we went Then she pushed me back Grabed my shaft & began to **** She said to me very sweetly I want to drink U all
0
Jul 23, 2010
Jul 23, 2010 at 4:17 PM UTC
Fantacies From My ***** Mind #1
I recall her stripping me naked Then she danced around the bed Slowly, enticingly disrobing her voluptuous form Her firm breast bouncing free from her bra My ******** began to ache As she slipped her tounge around it's head Her ******* hard & rubbery adorned the fleshy mountains I saw Hands wrapped around each I stroked & squeezed & suckeled Her wet crotch sliding down my leg Left a sticky trail Her mouth found a throbing shift And stoked it to it's base Where there she ****** in my ***** And gently rolled them in her mouth And around her face Up the shaft she came again though this time it slide down Her throught, warm & wet & exhaled Again & again she went I almost surcumed I pushed her back And dove between her thighs My tounge found that sweet spot between the sticky lips Lapping up her sweet honey drips Sliding my tounge from one end to the other ******* on that harden **** Until she gushed more sticky stuff Then slowly I plunged as deep as I could Filling up  that sweet pink hole And there I plunged again & again Until my cheeks were sore Slowly I raised myself Hands upon her thighs Spreading her lovelyness As wide as she  could split She reached down & grabed my form Holding hard she guided it in Not even a chance to heav forwards SHE CAME UP KER BAM As she fell back I drove it home My ***** smacked her in the *** Stroking deep & slow at first There was no holding her back Bucking & bounching she managed to turn around so I got her from hehind She reached under & grabed my ***** Like a lease it was as she pulled me in Faster & faster we went Then she pushed me back Grabed my shaft & began to **** She said to me very sweetly I want to drink U all
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55
Chasing the wind to learn its secrets Whispering in your ear just out of touch Following the mystery that it uses to tease Inescapable longing lures enticingly The world forgotten on a summer breeze
0
Jun 10, 2010
Jun 10, 2010 at 2:56 PM UTC
Breeze
I'll walk towards you in stilletos Naked as the day I was born and fold myself across you anticipating as the day is long I'll bend my knees upon carpet as decadent as your punishment and hold my breath until blue waiting for your commencement Waiting for your roaming hand to just simply stop it's caressing anticipating that sharp sting upon flesh so eager for addressing Up and down the fingers splayed beginning the real torture wiggling brings a sharp reprise and a whispered what have I taught you? *There is no escape, essentially, as you bend so enticingly across my knee there is no escape from me* and crack across my buttocks brings pleasure to both of us and an unspoken entreaty, hips raised in motion please... More for me
0
Jul 28, 2015
Jul 28, 2015 at 5:21 AM UTC
Spank Me (explicit)
Waves roll onto the shore. The sound, soft and steady but not perfectly so. Far enough to watch outside the halo of town. Yet, still within reality's grasp. Warm sand embeds itself in nooks and crannies. The balmy breeze blows tresses free. No longer constrained and swinging wildly in the evening air. Enticingly yellow sunset with clouds like meringue and white smoke. **Painted golden sun Sleepy on the horizon Awed into silence** A short drive in God's hands and it seems a better place. That buttercup and frothy sky heals unknowingly. Lapping sea and glorious firmament are proof enough. What is faith to a doubter?
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Jul 28, 2010
Jul 28, 2010 at 8:35 PM UTC
Tarnished Faith?
. The scrape of stone on stone, a shaft of light breaks through, with a rush of air, fresh and new, the chambers soul is bared. Fractals dance enticingly on millennia old rock, catching shards of mica sparkles, soft prisms copulate in the air. The mist clears, graceful in its retreat, and reveals a scene from another place, another world. Another reality..... © Pagan Paul (05/02/17)
0
Feb 6, 2017
Feb 6, 2017 at 5:10 PM UTC
Return Journey
In the moment just before wake, The last fragment of a dream eludes my grasp. As I cannot distinguish thought from memory, I am astounded that my imagination could conjure such bliss. If only at will… Not every night, but some, I see what I am capable of. Mind at ease and running free, Latching on to these ideas That exceed my perception. And my attempts to recall or review, Are but failed attempts, futile. Deemed too beautiful for consciousness, But from what I can remember- I fight, I play, I sight, I run from beasts. I find, I make, I lose, I have the world. I live, I breathe, I meet, I die sweet deaths. I fly, I kiss, I smile, I love it all. The fluidity of instances, the current of time, No-these do not exist in my mind. Or are rather transcended, Bent, broken, then mended. Allowed in my altered state To transform and create A world where everything is designed to please me, While, simultaneously, my fears run free. Ah, but not too much to handle. I have fragments, puzzle pieces, crumbs…so little. Oh sleeping self! I beseech you Spring alive and come and teach me All the wonders you have known, But sadly do always withhold. Revise my mind, what poor creation. Have mercy on my indignation. Am I really to believe That you are so wiser than me? Smiling, sleeping beauty, I Foresee the dangers of the eyes. Masterfully handicap My body to this nightly trap. Thus looming possibilities Of habitual retreats, Delights in excess to relieve Me of my duty to receive Signals from reality, Abundant sensory deceit, Of forlorn mental interactions, Of achieving distant affectations, Obtaining hopes and admirations, Beholding nonsensical perfection, All this, too more, are so designed That my mind can never wholly dine On the enticingly addictive Highly imaginative symptoms Of the body’s hidden fluid source That rarely tends to make its course. But holds great power menacing, As well as gently flowering. I envy you, my resting mind, My well worthy unconsciousness, Whose power is tempted unconstricted, Whose fascination’s limitless. Who teases me, a window shop, An ocean reduced to a drop. The very inkling I most relish; Waking memory’s a feather precious. Delicate and dancing ‘round, High hopes, in journey, treasure bound.
0
Oct 1, 2013
Oct 1, 2013 at 8:33 PM UTC
Envy
In the moment just before wake, The last fragment of a dream eludes my grasp. As I cannot distinguish thought from memory, I am astounded that my imagination could conjure such bliss. If only at will… Not every night, but some, I see what I am capable of. Mind at ease and running free, Latching on to these ideas That exceed my perception. And my attempts to recall or review, Are but failed attempts, futile. Deemed too beautiful for consciousness, But from what I can remember- I fight, I play, I sight, I run from beasts. I find, I make, I lose, I have the world. I live, I breathe, I meet, I die sweet deaths. I fly, I kiss, I smile, I love it all. The fluidity of instances, the current of time, No-these do not exist in my mind. Or are rather transcended, Bent, broken, then mended. Allowed in my altered state To transform and create A world where everything is designed to please me, While, simultaneously, my fears run free. Ah, but not too much to handle. I have fragments, puzzle pieces, crumbs…so little. Oh sleeping self! I beseech you Spring alive and come and teach me All the wonders you have known, But sadly do always withhold. Revise my mind, what poor creation. Have mercy on my indignation. Am I really to believe That you are so wiser than me? Smiling, sleeping beauty, I Foresee the dangers of the eyes. Masterfully handicap My body to this nightly trap. Thus looming possibilities Of habitual retreats, Delights in excess to relieve Me of my duty to receive Signals from reality, Abundant sensory deceit, Of forlorn mental interactions, Of achieving distant affectations, Obtaining hopes and admirations, Beholding nonsensical perfection, All this, too more, are so designed That my mind can never wholly dine On the enticingly addictive Highly imaginative symptoms Of the body’s hidden fluid source That rarely tends to make its course. But holds great power menacing, As well as gently flowering. I envy you, my resting mind, My well worthy unconsciousness, Whose power is tempted unconstricted, Whose fascination’s limitless. Who teases me, a window shop, An ocean reduced to a drop. The very inkling I most relish; Waking memory’s a feather precious. Delicate and dancing ‘round, High hopes, in journey, treasure bound.
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72
She was a lovely looking thing, A beautiful young blonde girl/woman She hadn't been with us long... at    work She was smart and sassy, even a little    scary Held strong opinions on some things, She lived close to where I lived, only    a few miles away So I was sitting amongst them one    day, the girls/the ladies They were a little bored that day and    for some sport Were trying to draw me out, to get me        to open up a little To reveal some more about my ways    and my life So I thought I'd have some fun with    them I told them I did some painting as a    hobby And that my speciality was 'the    female Nude' But alas! I had a problem, I had no    one to sit for me "If only I had some beautiful nymph, some haughty Queen, some dazzling princess", I lamented And then I'd gaze over at Her, give her    a longing look, Then of course, someone upped and    said the obvious " Jen....don't you live close to where he lives, would you not go sit for him " My face it lit up and I smiled "No! I would not!!! she said    emphatically, disgusted Now I knew from the Christmas party    she liked to drink Gin So I said enticingly "I'll throw in a    few bottles of Gin" "I'd never pose **** for anyone", she replied again emphatically, "it'd be embarrassing, it'd be degrading! Sitting naked before some man!", " But ", I replied, " you wouldn't be embarrassed sitting for me 'Cos when I paint a **** I insist on    being in the **** myself as well So as to make my Sitter feel more at    home, more at ease Yeah, Me! I'm very... Avant Garde" (said with a devilish twinkle in my eye) Still she resisted my painterly    charms So as to further entice her I said "I'll even cook you breakfast, no one can resist my lovely sizzling sausages". I felt as though I'd dangled my carrot    right in her face But still she wouldn't take the bait. I suppose I was lucky she hadn't for if    she had of (agreed) I would have had to have learnt how    to paint Nudes real fast And how to cook sausages and other    breakfast repast.
0
Apr 18, 2020
Apr 18, 2020 at 9:38 AM UTC
**** with Violins
She was a lovely looking thing, A beautiful young blonde girl/woman She hadn't been with us long... at    work She was smart and sassy, even a little    scary Held strong opinions on some things, She lived close to where I lived, only    a few miles away So I was sitting amongst them one    day, the girls/the ladies They were a little bored that day and    for some sport Were trying to draw me out, to get me        to open up a little To reveal some more about my ways    and my life So I thought I'd have some fun with    them I told them I did some painting as a    hobby And that my speciality was 'the    female Nude' But alas! I had a problem, I had no    one to sit for me "If only I had some beautiful nymph, some haughty Queen, some dazzling princess", I lamented And then I'd gaze over at Her, give her    a longing look, Then of course, someone upped and    said the obvious " Jen....don't you live close to where he lives, would you not go sit for him " My face it lit up and I smiled "No! I would not!!! she said    emphatically, disgusted Now I knew from the Christmas party    she liked to drink Gin So I said enticingly "I'll throw in a    few bottles of Gin" "I'd never pose **** for anyone", she replied again emphatically, "it'd be embarrassing, it'd be degrading! Sitting naked before some man!", " But ", I replied, " you wouldn't be embarrassed sitting for me 'Cos when I paint a **** I insist on    being in the **** myself as well So as to make my Sitter feel more at    home, more at ease Yeah, Me! I'm very... Avant Garde" (said with a devilish twinkle in my eye) Still she resisted my painterly    charms So as to further entice her I said "I'll even cook you breakfast, no one can resist my lovely sizzling sausages". I felt as though I'd dangled my carrot    right in her face But still she wouldn't take the bait. I suppose I was lucky she hadn't for if    she had of (agreed) I would have had to have learnt how    to paint Nudes real fast And how to cook sausages and other    breakfast repast.
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59
dear immoral,               salt seed of     s                               la   ughter enticingly, affably, salt compassionate psychic stimulates   the pigheaded exclamation compassionate osculation stands glove                   gives callously   equally, nonetheless, equally quarrelsome loving glove a persnickety longshoreman   each persnickety biochemistry is the   longshoreman cancerous? A ambiguous certification a stupid symphony leads a wizardry a road worker.                     No content,   j                       us             t web,                                   you     r bright face is suffered with an imagery. Bridge operator:                 agile                     computation           today, randomly ordinarily ah! A                     trembling     je       we                 ler confidant loves increasingly   languidly, sociably, spontaneously Look! A poor *********** perpetual on my           quick                               bible;   my psychotherapy roves into a             bleeding seashore. Oxygen   tickles beautifully boisterous, antisocial, odorous Look! A quivering predisposition the           psychoanalysis's   preferably quick       psych     otherapy- how         ebbing it is! It has the the depression snowed ordinarily. It repels the grin into the seashore a         punishing scream. Cataclysm predicts perfectly               stupidly sensually noncommittal unchanging rambling cataclysm in t       he                         unharnessing camaraderie a perfect board           overshadows   his youth   so                                   that it is contemporary grin             quick psychotherapies I repel quick this punishing kennel. The chore into appreciated camaraderies psychotherapies rove in it. A ink stick:   into appreciated ca                 mar           aderies psychotherapies rove in             my own gossip. Dogmatic, unrealistic cliff   grip               of firefly realistically, subtly, cliff Situationist               on my quick bible;   my paralysis roves onto a crazy seashore. Situationist on a             journey;   my             paralysis ambles onto a       crazy hotel. A equality   onto procreation kings paralys           is         amble outside of the kings. Buzzard: omnipotent nullification   extraordinarily, perfectly, saintly that buzzard is ambitious
0
Apr 8, 2016
Apr 8, 2016 at 12:12 PM UTC
Words From God
dear immoral,               salt seed of     s                               la   ughter enticingly, affably, salt compassionate psychic stimulates   the pigheaded exclamation compassionate osculation stands glove                   gives callously   equally, nonetheless, equally quarrelsome loving glove a persnickety longshoreman   each persnickety biochemistry is the   longshoreman cancerous? A ambiguous certification a stupid symphony leads a wizardry a road worker.                     No content,   j                       us             t web,                                   you     r bright face is suffered with an imagery. Bridge operator:                 agile                     computation           today, randomly ordinarily ah! A                     trembling     je       we                 ler confidant loves increasingly   languidly, sociably, spontaneously Look! A poor *********** perpetual on my           quick                               bible;   my psychotherapy roves into a             bleeding seashore. Oxygen   tickles beautifully boisterous, antisocial, odorous Look! A quivering predisposition the           psychoanalysis's   preferably quick       psych     otherapy- how         ebbing it is! It has the the depression snowed ordinarily. It repels the grin into the seashore a         punishing scream. Cataclysm predicts perfectly               stupidly sensually noncommittal unchanging rambling cataclysm in t       he                         unharnessing camaraderie a perfect board           overshadows   his youth   so                                   that it is contemporary grin             quick psychotherapies I repel quick this punishing kennel. The chore into appreciated camaraderies psychotherapies rove in it. A ink stick:   into appreciated ca                 mar           aderies psychotherapies rove in             my own gossip. Dogmatic, unrealistic cliff   grip               of firefly realistically, subtly, cliff Situationist               on my quick bible;   my paralysis roves onto a crazy seashore. Situationist on a             journey;   my             paralysis ambles onto a       crazy hotel. A equality   onto procreation kings paralys           is         amble outside of the kings. Buzzard: omnipotent nullification   extraordinarily, perfectly, saintly that buzzard is ambitious
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108
Everything is in chaos, but lasting us A split second, you blink your eyes Take a breath Credulous, yet benevolent Mind chasing Awaiting new thoughts, like meteors To explode across your cerebrum Feelings in eardrums From the sounds around you Constant axon arousal Enticingly guides you On the path to feel Alive With an adrenaline skeleton Complex, trying to fit in But really, "who are you?" Because sometimes thoughts succumb Beyond your grasp, and they numb the way you feel And in those moments, we define our ideals Almost Soley based on the bad things Instead of realizing We should not define ourselves for the chaos and chatter we internally ramble on with About half of us Cant mold an identity anyway Cause we don't understand The word is not meant to be What it's said to be Identity's definition Is not definite You see It's more like a clumsy representation Of what you want to be Since you are ever changing With the vibrations of thought Think of identity being more associated with how you adapt To everything thrown your way What defines you is how you display yourself When chaos itself Comes into your life Everyone has strife, cause life is not easy Just don't think you're alone Or have a mental disease
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Apr 12, 2015
Apr 12, 2015 at 3:09 PM UTC
The Chaos Theory
black mussels de-bearded, shine water, yeast-beer, hops combine enticingly with ginger, chilli, lime and much garlic. simmer, then.... gorge! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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Apr 12, 2015
Apr 12, 2015 at 4:55 AM UTC
bounty of...
Fantastically fashioned fingers, running smoothly through hair; past present post- Father Time struck by Sand Man's stare. Heavenly hanging hair, draping gently over lips; tantalizing teasing tendrils- Aphrodite's mien, Venus' hips. Lusciously loving lips, smiling softly at wandering eyes; delirious delighted daze- Pyramus and Thisbe's kiss--butterflies. Efficaciously effervescent... enchantingly endearing... enticingly euphoric... exultantly excited... [Simply] ethereal! Eyes, diamonds, starlight, life, of Earth, sky, and sea; bejeweled boundless bless'ed- If thou were Medusa, stone I'd be so readily. Simply said Shakespeare, thou art the sun; falsely framed fairness- for the sun is not brightest, tis You tis You, my wonderful, beautiful One.
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Jun 24, 2014
Jun 24, 2014 at 4:09 PM UTC
Perfection Has a Name~
I imagined your hips in my hands, and I imagined I had it all under control. I stared at your lips when you spoke, you pretended not to notice. I stared at your *** when you walked away, and your hips swang methodically, enticingly. Public intoxication, two nights in the county jail, 500 dollars in court fees and fines, and the feel of your breast on my palms. These are the things that haunt me. You haunt me.
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Dec 26, 2014
Dec 26, 2014 at 5:02 PM UTC
the things that haunt me
I am breathless. wordless. my eyes attempt to take in every little piece of you. They trace your edges. Test them. Dip into the shadows that your head tilted down in shyness, nervousness, uncertainty mixed with certainty casts across your neck The ones that fade out as they reach for your chest the same way i want to reach out and touch you slide my hands gently across your skin kiss you in places that i  never think I'd think to kiss you in places i never imagined would curve so enticingly the way they did I want arms long enough to reach out and pull you to me until we share a single smoothe edge. I want you to curve to my shape I want to BE touched and that fine line is one I want you to brush your fingertips over I'd relive it for pieces of forever.
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Jan 29, 2013
Jan 29, 2013 at 3:29 PM UTC
Brush your fingertips over this fine line
Words, words, words Yours set fire to my mind with candle-like subtleties. Punishment for all the sins that haven't been committed... yet. Call me a ********* but it hurts in the best way. Make me writhe in the inferno of my thoughts Burn your touch into my memory and set my skin blazing The hellish flames licking enticingly at my throat and the spaces between my toes. Make this unforgettable. Flickering embers swirling through the confines of body and mind to be remembered forevermore.
0
Oct 9, 2012
Oct 9, 2012 at 1:04 AM UTC
Words, words, words (10.08.12)
Your smoky cloud foams Got my eyes tripping Chronicles of biology lab Lacking of chemistry You burn your forest down Slowly reaping Lucid crystals bowls Enticingly got me dreamy Two individuals Trapped in a poetry emotion Reminiscing on each other Mysterious sedation Writing of riddles With sincerest caution Preventing straying lines Infecting our rhythm Hearts shattering mirrors Reflecting smiles Memorizing words Into a typography file Reflecting daily circumstances Shadows by my side No one could judged Your moody ocean tide Like a fish flying high Against the currents flow pride If I could continue writing Scribbles with your permission No words in my vocabulary Could ever substantially passed I've never caramelized My riddles with lies Sugar coating inks Luring ****** and flies If my feelings for you Never sober and true Why does it hurts When I'm thinking about you There is no other love I could simply lose Valentine just over But.. I'm still missing you @2014 Maman Screams
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Feb 14, 2014
Feb 14, 2014 at 7:56 PM UTC
Valentine's Gloom
A delicate breeze wets my cheeks               Painting a desire across my breast A ****** canvas for us to dance Buried shapes in a reflection of one chance Your alluring eyes meld into me Your roseate lips ablaze my desire Tracing and spilling as you inflame my needs Provoking my urge I draw you near as we empty the air You peel away my imperfections smoothly and enticingly I roam your virility spreading and streaking As you dip inside my heated  mouth Glazing and rising as you distend I suckle and tease your liquid love You clutch my hair , I rake and roll your whole length As you tremble you pull me near Your masterful fingers ,discover my pink sheath Pinching and releasing my heated abyss You entice me as you roam Imprisoned into my bones Flowing as my lady unfurls We peel away the fluster As I enter into your shadow You infuse into me Rippling and releasing Tracing the peaks of me We build and merge together We raised and we surged Into a flood tide of forgotten dreams
0
Feb 20, 2014
Feb 20, 2014 at 1:21 AM UTC
Liquid Love (Adult Content)
Inhaling oakmoss and tobacco Sparkling ivory with the structure of ebony She swirls her glass, wrapped with crimson talons Toes pointed in patent leather, wrists cuffed in white lace The fire crackles a warning but it glows too enticingly I feel comfort and fear, scorched and glacial I am the arsonist's thirst- nomadic, static If tonight isn't the peak of my existence I am the world's luckiest soul
0
Nov 21, 2018
Nov 21, 2018 at 7:28 PM UTC
When the moon met the sun
He was bent over almost in half bent over a pool table concentrating on the next play but there were no ***** on the table just a body dressed in gray sweatpants a holey shirt, and only one shoe The pool cue was chalked with blood but his hands were steady Crack Splintering wood against bone fractures symphonic ally in tune with ancient jukebox greats warbling the hurts of somebody done someone wrong but I don't want a piece of that... that which has spread someone who never meant anything to me across the green of the pool table trying to punt individual pieces of them into six different holes I'm shadowing myself in the corner next to the jukebox but his eyes find mine and I'm surprised his are Blue like an ocean like a cloudless sky like a sapphire under the sun like a fire burning too hot like deep frozen ice His seriously kissable sensual lips tip enticingly upwards in my general direction asking... imaging He with you? asking but not believing you with him? Mutely, I wither beneath the notice and nod with a shake of my head I'm not here, I'm not here, I'm not here But here I am being scrutinized from a different angle In front of me he's standing, tracking my gaze to the non action at the pool table now over, there is a new game in play but he didn't ante in as he found a new game Me and the stakes are high! A finger runs lightly down my cheek across my collarbone and down the V of my deeply cut T shirt skimming knuckles across the slopes of barely there maturity down the inside of my arm to my wrist to the palm of my hand twining into my numb fingers raising them to press a open mouthed kiss to my white knuckles with a promise of I know where you live Out the door, alone, across the parking lot and into the car I own he's watching waiting for me to turn my back on him and he's got it he'll find me I realize as I close a door that has little hope and less lockable appeal that he does indeed now know where I live He won't forget
0
Apr 13, 2013
Apr 13, 2013 at 5:26 AM UTC
First Time (trilogy) I Saw Him ~ Part I
He was bent over almost in half bent over a pool table concentrating on the next play but there were no ***** on the table just a body dressed in gray sweatpants a holey shirt, and only one shoe The pool cue was chalked with blood but his hands were steady Crack Splintering wood against bone fractures symphonic ally in tune with ancient jukebox greats warbling the hurts of somebody done someone wrong but I don't want a piece of that... that which has spread someone who never meant anything to me across the green of the pool table trying to punt individual pieces of them into six different holes I'm shadowing myself in the corner next to the jukebox but his eyes find mine and I'm surprised his are Blue like an ocean like a cloudless sky like a sapphire under the sun like a fire burning too hot like deep frozen ice His seriously kissable sensual lips tip enticingly upwards in my general direction asking... imaging He with you? asking but not believing you with him? Mutely, I wither beneath the notice and nod with a shake of my head I'm not here, I'm not here, I'm not here But here I am being scrutinized from a different angle In front of me he's standing, tracking my gaze to the non action at the pool table now over, there is a new game in play but he didn't ante in as he found a new game Me and the stakes are high! A finger runs lightly down my cheek across my collarbone and down the V of my deeply cut T shirt skimming knuckles across the slopes of barely there maturity down the inside of my arm to my wrist to the palm of my hand twining into my numb fingers raising them to press a open mouthed kiss to my white knuckles with a promise of I know where you live Out the door, alone, across the parking lot and into the car I own he's watching waiting for me to turn my back on him and he's got it he'll find me I realize as I close a door that has little hope and less lockable appeal that he does indeed now know where I live He won't forget
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The sound of clothes slipping from shoulders in the quiet dark. A muted glow bouncing enticingly off of smooth, exposed skin. A playful giggle, a gentle lingering kiss. The plush, warm, hypnosis of lips on lips. A quickening heartbeat that pairs with another. The transition of teasing touches and subtle amused sounds. The rush of heat shared between bodies. A catching breath in the moment. The need that fills the senses of both. A feeling of urgency, euphoria just out of reach. A joining of two halves, one soul. The moment of sheer bliss with one deep, and warm, within the other. A new universe is gradually exposed. The unique rhythm of two bodies, discovered. The sweat trickles, where salted skin excites. A love expressed by approaching ecstasy. Life is rarely as beautiful as in these moments.
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Jan 16, 2014
Jan 16, 2014 at 9:41 PM UTC
Two into One