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"fondles" poems
by rgpage outside the walls a cold wind howls in the dark of a wintry night. yet in their bed so soft and warm a young couple's fancy takes flight. fresh candle light flickers in challenge to the outside winter's cold bluster. yet safe in their place they lend a soft grace to light up the lover's growing luster. under warm blankets naked bodies entwine she's backed in to outline his form. his free hand parts her raven black hair his lips track her neck....his breath warm. her whole body shutters as his hand softly traces her side from shoulder to knees. his kiss' grow hot between shoulder and neck for more her breath sweetly pleads. his hand travels back and stops at her rear caressing her flesh firm and slow. her hips gently roll into every firm squeeze starting nature's hot juices to flow. again on the move his hand travels up past tummy so soft to her ******* while each one he fondles and cupping its weight his hips grinding soft in the quest. outside the wind's howl has grown to a roar yet inside the light slowly wanes. with bodies so hot blankets kicked to the floor wrapped up in love's rapture gains. now facing each other they give to each other their gentle and sweet surrender. a play ground of lust yet filled with love's trust and touching so firm yet so tender. she reaches her hands out to stroke his desire so hard yet so smooth to her touch. and likewise he bends in to suckle her ******* hands rubbing her hips full and lush. as is natures way there's time in love's play when exploring and pleasure must grow. spreading her limbs to let him pass in she shudders with love's natural glow. gentle and tender yet rhythmic his strokes the room fills with sounds of their pleasure. their hips rise and fall in love's intimate dance this dance, love's most ultimate measure. faster and harder they urge one another as closer to ****** they gain. kissing and rubbing expressing their love 'til euphorically numb they became. out side the winter storm rages a most punishing wind at play. yet lying inside in each other's arms our  lovers drift off and away… Dec 4, 2011
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Jun 11, 2012
Jun 11, 2012 at 2:02 PM UTC
love in the winter
by rgpage outside the walls a cold wind howls in the dark of a wintry night. yet in their bed so soft and warm a young couple's fancy takes flight. fresh candle light flickers in challenge to the outside winter's cold bluster. yet safe in their place they lend a soft grace to light up the lover's growing luster. under warm blankets naked bodies entwine she's backed in to outline his form. his free hand parts her raven black hair his lips track her neck....his breath warm. her whole body shutters as his hand softly traces her side from shoulder to knees. his kiss' grow hot between shoulder and neck for more her breath sweetly pleads. his hand travels back and stops at her rear caressing her flesh firm and slow. her hips gently roll into every firm squeeze starting nature's hot juices to flow. again on the move his hand travels up past tummy so soft to her ******* while each one he fondles and cupping its weight his hips grinding soft in the quest. outside the wind's howl has grown to a roar yet inside the light slowly wanes. with bodies so hot blankets kicked to the floor wrapped up in love's rapture gains. now facing each other they give to each other their gentle and sweet surrender. a play ground of lust yet filled with love's trust and touching so firm yet so tender. she reaches her hands out to stroke his desire so hard yet so smooth to her touch. and likewise he bends in to suckle her ******* hands rubbing her hips full and lush. as is natures way there's time in love's play when exploring and pleasure must grow. spreading her limbs to let him pass in she shudders with love's natural glow. gentle and tender yet rhythmic his strokes the room fills with sounds of their pleasure. their hips rise and fall in love's intimate dance this dance, love's most ultimate measure. faster and harder they urge one another as closer to ****** they gain. kissing and rubbing expressing their love 'til euphorically numb they became. out side the winter storm rages a most punishing wind at play. yet lying inside in each other's arms our  lovers drift off and away… Dec 4, 2011
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55
9 January 2014   02.21am "We all have feelings for our girlfriends Bea, it doesn't mean we have to act on them.." Silence filled the room Two opposing forces Love lust passion Hate anger fear What was once owned Has now been taken Walking towards her Reaching out, hand movements So slow and graceful An aura so compelling, senses heightened Bodies shifting as though Magnetic forces were playing A sultry dance acting out Underneath the candelabra Eyes locked mirroring feelings Left unspoken, razor sharp tongue Hips graze, music intensifies An atmosphere fraught with Tension, favoured to be cut by a knife Hesitating lips part with a subtle urgency Circulatory movements dancing feet A lowly finger fondles an inner thigh Ever so slightly withering, exuberant pleasure Eyes connect, glistening from the light A smile pacifying both women Others gazes capture their movements For now, they are the only ones Whose love and light fills this room Alone, unhinged, they kiss At first tentatively, then feverishly Drowning, they are both saved The lovers bodies blend into one Possessing one another Nothing is lost in that moment Desperately clinging to affection Souls freed, emotions making miracles Two lovers effortlessly become One soul being. © Sia Jane
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Jan 9, 2014
Jan 9, 2014 at 12:17 PM UTC
Eleven Minutes
ching, ching Two men walk into a local cafe. A city boy, and a Townsman The cityboy sports Slicked up hair. Blue button up shirt, Grey slacks. Dress shoes. The townsman simpler. Brown hair. Orange T-shirt, cargo pants. Work boots. "Hey there!" Says the city boy. walking up to the counter. "Do you ladies have different roasts of coffee? Or do you have just one kind?" The Register girl looks at him sideways. "What are you talking about?" "I want a black light roast if you have it. Also, two shots over ice." He hands her his travel mug. "What's this for?" The girl fondles the travel mug. "I'd like my coffee in that please." The manager puts a hand to the girls shoulder. "The house coffee is a light roast doll, give him that." "Cream and sugar?" Asks the register girl. "Oh god, please no." Laughs the city boy "Thank you." Handing over a credit card. The register girl does not understand what is so funny about cream and sugar. "Cash?" Says the manager. "Is there an atm? I can only offer this, but I know how to change that if you point me in the right direction." "No ATM. We just Offer a discount for cash, we'll take your card." Says the manager. The city boy waits for his drinks. The townsman, walks up and says "Coffee, please" The manager hands him a paper cup with coffee, cream, and sugar. He pays them in cash. smiles, nods. Says: "Thank you" Then waits for the city boy. "Here's your sippy cup." Says the register girl. Handing over his travel mug. The city boy stands there waiting patiently. "Are you waiting for something?" "Yes. my two shots over ice?" "Oh I put it in there." "Could I have two shots over ice please? I'll pay for it again if you forgot." "Oh we don't have an espresso machine. Our shots are like a syrup." "Oh... Is there syrup in here? I just wanted two shots over ice." "Well like... I mean our prices are so low anyway, it's no big deal, but we don't have an espresso machine so..." "Sorry" says the manager. "Thank you ladies." Says the townsman. The cityboy grabs the townsmans hand. They leave the Cafe. The city boy sips his Botched coffee. "I've had good, bad, and know what I want. I don't want to be seen as difficult because I'm educated." He tolerates it. The townsman sips his Familiar Coffee. "Sometimes ignorance is bliss." He enjoys it.
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Oct 5, 2015
Oct 5, 2015 at 10:31 PM UTC
The City Boy & The Townsman Get Coffee
ching, ching Two men walk into a local cafe. A city boy, and a Townsman The cityboy sports Slicked up hair. Blue button up shirt, Grey slacks. Dress shoes. The townsman simpler. Brown hair. Orange T-shirt, cargo pants. Work boots. "Hey there!" Says the city boy. walking up to the counter. "Do you ladies have different roasts of coffee? Or do you have just one kind?" The Register girl looks at him sideways. "What are you talking about?" "I want a black light roast if you have it. Also, two shots over ice." He hands her his travel mug. "What's this for?" The girl fondles the travel mug. "I'd like my coffee in that please." The manager puts a hand to the girls shoulder. "The house coffee is a light roast doll, give him that." "Cream and sugar?" Asks the register girl. "Oh god, please no." Laughs the city boy "Thank you." Handing over a credit card. The register girl does not understand what is so funny about cream and sugar. "Cash?" Says the manager. "Is there an atm? I can only offer this, but I know how to change that if you point me in the right direction." "No ATM. We just Offer a discount for cash, we'll take your card." Says the manager. The city boy waits for his drinks. The townsman, walks up and says "Coffee, please" The manager hands him a paper cup with coffee, cream, and sugar. He pays them in cash. smiles, nods. Says: "Thank you" Then waits for the city boy. "Here's your sippy cup." Says the register girl. Handing over his travel mug. The city boy stands there waiting patiently. "Are you waiting for something?" "Yes. my two shots over ice?" "Oh I put it in there." "Could I have two shots over ice please? I'll pay for it again if you forgot." "Oh we don't have an espresso machine. Our shots are like a syrup." "Oh... Is there syrup in here? I just wanted two shots over ice." "Well like... I mean our prices are so low anyway, it's no big deal, but we don't have an espresso machine so..." "Sorry" says the manager. "Thank you ladies." Says the townsman. The cityboy grabs the townsmans hand. They leave the Cafe. The city boy sips his Botched coffee. "I've had good, bad, and know what I want. I don't want to be seen as difficult because I'm educated." He tolerates it. The townsman sips his Familiar Coffee. "Sometimes ignorance is bliss." He enjoys it.
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*Electric Dreams Of My Radioactive Ex, Bio-Digital Jazz Tap Dancing Us Into *** Lucid Infatuations Infused In Whiskey, Cupid Fairytales Conceiving Frisky, A Perpetual Beauty Smoldered In Ecstatic Bliss, Sublime Sins Between Her Rosy Lips With Velvet Kiss, Romantic Burns Galvanized In Her ****** Desires, Seductive Stardust Enchanting My Feisty Fires, Encoded Serenity In Her Decoded Virginity, Recoding Obscenities Of Her Fragrant Sexuality, Hazel Echoes Raining Intimate Bouquets, Rekindling, Her Drug That Fondles In Her Moaning Glaze, Enraptured Catalysts Animating In Her Cuddles, Euphoric Elations Climaxing Into Her Satin Snuggles. - 02:17AM -*
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Apr 19, 2017
Apr 19, 2017 at 5:00 PM UTC
Bio-Digital Jazz
inlove with a girl who breathes like snow so light, it is almost nothing, nothing at all inlove with a girl whose skin rubs against mine as a tongue fondles peaches(cling) inlove with a girl who sighs like the crest of a wave, falling to meet the rest of it's body(russsshh) inlove with a girl whose move- ments collect eyes like her hair collects rain or her toes collect sand inlove like I am inlove, like I am inlove
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Apr 26, 2013
Apr 26, 2013 at 3:36 PM UTC
she is/I am
I am walking. Pushed slightly, by the northeast. My companion yellow in color, fondles the air with his muzzle. Our strides take us forward. Galloping cracked pavement. Exploring familiar arch ways, of hemlock and bittersweets. Our view is panoramic. With flights honking in the distance, as they return to the waking land. We huddle at the top. Where we watch the day, tuck away into eves pocket. This light is special. It is a sensation of nothing, and everything. It fills you and the land, with just enough. Then swiftly dims away. Leaving softly. Is truly a perfect, ending.
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Apr 10, 2015
Apr 10, 2015 at 12:20 PM UTC
Tranquility
Mountain dominion ••. •• She struts her suicidal world with well practiced authority She is the Queen of Cut In the insane cult Of the morbidly infantile Cheap release ••• She has a home \\\ The mountains are Too Free /// And bid her also follow To where the sky and the waters meet And she won't go there! There's something there that she must know She who claims to know Everything ! •• •• Images of sages Of mystical children Mythical beasts •• She fondles her tarot blade Her ***** she calls MY BOYFRIEND'! He hurt her so! (That is ---- the battery went dead!) •• Mountain dominion Tomorrow Real •• Only truth SHE LIVES IN HER MIRROR BROKEN AND SMALL she don't want no truth at all! •• MOUTAIN DOMINION (Calls) I ll meet you by the waterfall
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Nov 8, 2013
Nov 8, 2013 at 2:35 PM UTC
Friday in the cafeteria
you might have to stare into neutrons to un-bond the Marmaduke con your large doggerels are farcical in a feline fashion. what harm you do - fondles the rabid scabies of our scathing debutantes. we are an affront to the baklava where the syrup is fierce and yet the spirit is amber locking swift Hymenoptera into place.... you might have to stare into space to see me... but be me, and you might gain a wee thing as fabulous as when we bent knees to no god but had demons in our **** larceny. you polished the rogering, you foggy bogged the biscuit. had your druthers whisk the cinch a bit. till we nipped, went. had our coffee spent.
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Mar 12, 2013
Mar 12, 2013 at 2:53 PM UTC
You Might Have To Stare Into Space To See Me
An uncolourful evanescence of passion, tarries beneath the surface of your smile. Though you seem sinful in your beauty, a frustration fondles your thoughts. An emotion runs thick through your skin, and yet, you act placid, serene. Like some other worldly angel, unaffected by the inconvenience of human sentiment. Fluid, even movements occupy your person, as if fury calms you, as if mind and cadaver function impartial to the other. I long to catch sight of some small imperfection, but only your dearest may see you sincere.
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May 29, 2012
May 29, 2012 at 2:01 AM UTC
A Woman's Capability.
(10wx3) Ocean plays, pokes the shore, waves' bubbly edges bashing, lapping, seducing, making love, calmly, violently... sand and rocks, both subservient... ocean...fondles shore with masochistic caresses, consummating...eccentric love affair... Sally Copyright February 7, 2017 Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
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Feb 7, 2017
Feb 7, 2017 at 9:40 AM UTC
LOVE AFFAIR
After you’ve been home for quite awhile, With enough time to eat and drink the fruits of the daily grind, once you have watched your favorite show and talked your favorite talk, Their eyes tease the thought mused by many. You decipher the lucid expression on their face in no time at all, or in enough time to find their lips pursed tautly against yours, and they say, ‘Every time we say goodbye’…as they lead you to the digs of dreamland, you wonder why a little. You caress the thought chewed on by most as they ****** your hand. (Your arm barely fondles the burly walls of the hall they lead you through and through to the room at the end of the corridor.) You trip over a laundry basket for two. They laugh, help you up, looking in your eyes, perforating the retinas like those cheap knives at some tacky store. You make it to the door, it creaks open just a crack to click the little flicker back. The space is small but roomy, with enough slack to let on a bed, with plenty of fixtures to plug plugs into pluggers or whatever you call them. You stalk the sack without the stigma that pillowed its petals. You pull back its folds to reveal the nectar between its leaves. Fresh linen. Smells like the breeze. They say, ‘Turn off the lights.’
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Jun 23, 2012
Jun 23, 2012 at 3:33 PM UTC
Die a Little
One. When you remember what happened to you as a child, Ignore it. It probably doesn't mean much anyway After all, You're probably just using it as an excuse to get away with ****** You're probably just making it up for attention. Two. When a boy fondles you in your church boiler room, Do not tell anyone. Since you froze up Did not say no The best case scenario Is that they will make you "talk it out" And tell you it is your Christian duty to forgive him The worst case scenario Is that your formerly mutual friends will brand a scarlet letter to your chest And you make it your personal mission to live up to that label. Three. If you have *** before marriage, Do not let anyone find out. If you have *** with multiple people before marriage, Hide it under lock and key. If you have casual *** with multiple people before marriage, You can forget about going to heaven. Four. When you have become the perfect liar and ***** Do not get assaulted. You know what I said about no one believing you? Increase that times one hundred thousand. The only difference is this time Not even the ones you love the most Will take you seriously. You'll get your morning dosage Of slut-shaming And "what were you wearing?" The nightly pill shoved down your throat "He was in a bad place." Five. When he texts you four months later Saying he hasn't tried to **** himself in quite a while When you read the word "sorry" in a public bathroom Say you're okay. Do not say you are bulimic And that where his hands went that night Or the text messages that made you fear for your safety Had anything to do with your own perfectly calculated mental breakdown. Six. When your church talks about purity, Nod like the rest of the robots. Smile, because you are their concrete example Of who not to become. Why do they care more about the *** you have Than the *** that was forced upon you? They say trauma has a stronger link to addiction Than obesity does to diabetes Do they ever stop to wonder If just maybe, I am addicted to everything I hate? They will tell me I have nothing new to add to the discussion So they can silence me But I have my story A story that is mine and I control The ending.
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Jan 17, 2016
Jan 17, 2016 at 5:26 PM UTC
A Guide to Losing Yourself in Six Easy Steps
One. When you remember what happened to you as a child, Ignore it. It probably doesn't mean much anyway After all, You're probably just using it as an excuse to get away with ****** You're probably just making it up for attention. Two. When a boy fondles you in your church boiler room, Do not tell anyone. Since you froze up Did not say no The best case scenario Is that they will make you "talk it out" And tell you it is your Christian duty to forgive him The worst case scenario Is that your formerly mutual friends will brand a scarlet letter to your chest And you make it your personal mission to live up to that label. Three. If you have *** before marriage, Do not let anyone find out. If you have *** with multiple people before marriage, Hide it under lock and key. If you have casual *** with multiple people before marriage, You can forget about going to heaven. Four. When you have become the perfect liar and ***** Do not get assaulted. You know what I said about no one believing you? Increase that times one hundred thousand. The only difference is this time Not even the ones you love the most Will take you seriously. You'll get your morning dosage Of slut-shaming And "what were you wearing?" The nightly pill shoved down your throat "He was in a bad place." Five. When he texts you four months later Saying he hasn't tried to **** himself in quite a while When you read the word "sorry" in a public bathroom Say you're okay. Do not say you are bulimic And that where his hands went that night Or the text messages that made you fear for your safety Had anything to do with your own perfectly calculated mental breakdown. Six. When your church talks about purity, Nod like the rest of the robots. Smile, because you are their concrete example Of who not to become. Why do they care more about the *** you have Than the *** that was forced upon you? They say trauma has a stronger link to addiction Than obesity does to diabetes Do they ever stop to wonder If just maybe, I am addicted to everything I hate? They will tell me I have nothing new to add to the discussion So they can silence me But I have my story A story that is mine and I control The ending.
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October 21, 2017 · My love is like a jasmine flower, Dancing in darkness and light Shaking the fragrance of passion. In company, with summer She fondles sweet dreams Collecting them roses, Giving them butterfly kisses My love sleeps in a magical bed, Woven by blue sky, Adorned with moons and stars, And colors of hot rumor, All hugs her every night, Collecting her dreams’ smiles, And desire, And plant them in my heart, Roses of chastity, Taking me with such a bliss To the land of freedom and light.
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Aug 2, 2018
Aug 2, 2018 at 5:04 PM UTC
My Love
When the moon stares on earth like this, when the vastness of the sky fondles too well on my loneliness, when the horizon limits me with only you to wonder about, I wish I'could hear your voice even from an unfathomable distance even just in a kiss of a minute - perhaps to see if you're doing well, Even though I need no further clue that you’re doing great without me. And my wanting to hear your voice, is more of me not doing well without you.
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Oct 19, 2015
Oct 19, 2015 at 4:31 AM UTC
Why I want to hear you
I am a sitter at windows, said Lucia; I am a thinker of sad thoughts, a gazer at stars and moon and the bright hot afternoon sun. My thoughts taunt me like bullying children, they repeat words and images and strings of verbal abuse like repetitive ***** I sit at the window with folded arms, my *** numb on the window ledge, my eyes peering through the netted curtains, taking in the sights, the people, the cats and dogs, the cars and buses, the odd cyclists, the women pushing prams, children crying at the side. I see and know my childhood ghosts, the locked doors, the no supper nights, the starving rumblings of an empty stomach, words bellowed through the doors by angry parents. I am one who stares from windows, one who snoops through netted curtains, taking in the sights, hearing imperfectly the outer sounds, the stolen kisses and hugs from teenage loves, the backyards fondles, *** on the cheap, lives, loves, kisses and holds. I see new moons, quarter moons, half moons and full moons and the lunatic surge pulls me in and pushes me out, my moods change like the waves of the sea, the deeps drowning me in depression, the black dog’s bark, thoughts of death in a bath, slit wrists, over doses, hanging behind a bathroom door like mother had, eyes popping, tongue protruding. I think of past loves, dream of what might have been, the boys who came and went, the ones who stayed and spoiled, the girls who stayed the night for sensual *** or schoolgirl kisses, of visits to an asylum before mother’s demise, the locked doors, the cruel cries and lunatic laughter, the odd looking staff, the eyes, the tongues, the finger gestures from closing doors. I see the work of the gods in my daily stares, the passing people on their way to death or work or love or indecent *** with another’s love, or a child innocent as a flower’s bud plucked and pulled and brain washed by an adult hand and tongue. I am one who sees what’s come to an end and what’s sadly begun.
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May 6, 2012
May 6, 2012 at 2:29 AM UTC
SITTER AT WINDOWS.
I am a sitter at windows, said Lucia; I am a thinker of sad thoughts, a gazer at stars and moon and the bright hot afternoon sun. My thoughts taunt me like bullying children, they repeat words and images and strings of verbal abuse like repetitive ***** I sit at the window with folded arms, my *** numb on the window ledge, my eyes peering through the netted curtains, taking in the sights, the people, the cats and dogs, the cars and buses, the odd cyclists, the women pushing prams, children crying at the side. I see and know my childhood ghosts, the locked doors, the no supper nights, the starving rumblings of an empty stomach, words bellowed through the doors by angry parents. I am one who stares from windows, one who snoops through netted curtains, taking in the sights, hearing imperfectly the outer sounds, the stolen kisses and hugs from teenage loves, the backyards fondles, *** on the cheap, lives, loves, kisses and holds. I see new moons, quarter moons, half moons and full moons and the lunatic surge pulls me in and pushes me out, my moods change like the waves of the sea, the deeps drowning me in depression, the black dog’s bark, thoughts of death in a bath, slit wrists, over doses, hanging behind a bathroom door like mother had, eyes popping, tongue protruding. I think of past loves, dream of what might have been, the boys who came and went, the ones who stayed and spoiled, the girls who stayed the night for sensual *** or schoolgirl kisses, of visits to an asylum before mother’s demise, the locked doors, the cruel cries and lunatic laughter, the odd looking staff, the eyes, the tongues, the finger gestures from closing doors. I see the work of the gods in my daily stares, the passing people on their way to death or work or love or indecent *** with another’s love, or a child innocent as a flower’s bud plucked and pulled and brain washed by an adult hand and tongue. I am one who sees what’s come to an end and what’s sadly begun.
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48
The places are adorned with light, The shops, cafes and more so bright, While she's dressed up in pink and white, At this gleaming plaza tonight. After the chilly times of noon, Up in the sky there shines the moon, With clouds of dust who stars have strewn, At this gleaming plaza tonight. While walking in the chilly air, The wind fondles her hazel hair, Who makes her looks so fly and fair, At this gleaming plaza tonight. Delights and fun lie in this mall, From sweets to smiles, you'll find them all, In tones of smooth and soft pastel, At this gleaming plaza tonight. Where should I be after my days, Other than walking in this place, Accompanied by this sweet face? At this gleaming plaza tonight.
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Nov 16, 2017
Nov 16, 2017 at 12:00 PM UTC
The Gleaming Plaza (song)
Sitting in this dark room, with my eyes closed I feel a world, the feeling is so lively, so beguiling, as this world slowly unfolds Its a world where people don’t talk, but sing Where people don’t walk but hop Where people don’t fight for the spotlight Where people greet each other with ringa-ringa-roses Where bruises are cured by gentle fondles, Where people cry laughing, Where everybody is a proven man, Where everybody is a lovely woman, Where nobody fights with his own friend trying to win over him in his fight for the first Where ego is only as real as satan, Where god is seen and felt in every human being Where money is just a piece of paper Where religion is music and dance Where peace is filled in air and is felt in every breath Where strangers dance and sing together, Where heart breaks are as sinful as ****** Where school is a place to learn what is life about Where the teacher teaches how to live it fully Where we are one with the universe and universe is one with us Where one is no different from two and two is no different from three And zero is as high as one-not-four
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Apr 11, 2015
Apr 11, 2015 at 8:40 AM UTC
Don't talk but Sing
it fondles the marble rubber of tissue sublime a marked indifference to tempts of sighing inclement vociferous ****** comes a bastion of mortal tempest anon thou only quickest steam
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Dec 21, 2010
Dec 21, 2010 at 3:11 PM UTC
it fondles
cladding of a miniature kite flying low nearly raking treetops figuring out all the stupid crap apps vying for attention flashing waste of unnecessary things peck.. peck.. at indulge crumbs left berried stalks on a pavement deep fried horror slow ingest impoverished smiles answer sewer cracks sift through detritus of sea sludge trickery wishes weeded out by force probe eyes drill into sunbaked back from across wrenching chasm scream tearing of brown paper heard from toothless vagrant hide a peek into auburnt stuck starfish stand on violent edge treble want not nearly seen rocking wicker chair on solid balcony light breeze fondles sweated head curls o'oblivion study of gripping truth I place within your palm a miniature__kite of such extent its face can be hid forever within the depths of you
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Oct 27, 2013
Oct 27, 2013 at 8:21 AM UTC
miniature_kite
I closed my eyes... And then his warm hands were felt around my face He kissed me passionately... And that made me want to be kept by him. In this non-existing place- Where there is no time I wanted to keep that feelin' But I never knew we were dreamin... How did he know where I was? How'd he know where I lived in my slumber? I don't know, but I hope he comes… every time… …Every time I close my eyes His lips are soft. His kisses are as light as the flittering butterflies in my belly My flowers are budding; my lips are swelling My core contracts As the rest of my body reacts At the thought of him filling my void from the back… Givin’ that *** a smack... But he still makes passionate love to my body While he fondles and ***** my mind He's readin between my lines His ***** is ink for my pen I got the juice but he's the gin His wrath and gentleness is a Holy awakenin' May my every cell say 'Amen' Like a kid on the carousel: Daddy, do it again... (please)… He makes my water fall From my ******* ceiling Down my sugar walls He takes a taste He say there's none to waste... Then he returns to place his beautiful kisses upon my face Moves knees outta the way So he can put our puzzle pieces in place My cheeks twitch and vibrate at the quake of the way we Love Make Till I clench and he wince till his legs shake... I love him till he’s weak... Till he whispers to me: “Open your eyes…” His presence has caused my wetness To travel to the inside of these thighs Now I want to deny That I am drowning... In myself.... For I have awakened Only to find that I’d been dreamin'....
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Jul 21, 2010
Jul 21, 2010 at 7:32 AM UTC
Dreamin'
I closed my eyes... And then his warm hands were felt around my face He kissed me passionately... And that made me want to be kept by him. In this non-existing place- Where there is no time I wanted to keep that feelin' But I never knew we were dreamin... How did he know where I was? How'd he know where I lived in my slumber? I don't know, but I hope he comes… every time… …Every time I close my eyes His lips are soft. His kisses are as light as the flittering butterflies in my belly My flowers are budding; my lips are swelling My core contracts As the rest of my body reacts At the thought of him filling my void from the back… Givin’ that *** a smack... But he still makes passionate love to my body While he fondles and ***** my mind He's readin between my lines His ***** is ink for my pen I got the juice but he's the gin His wrath and gentleness is a Holy awakenin' May my every cell say 'Amen' Like a kid on the carousel: Daddy, do it again... (please)… He makes my water fall From my ******* ceiling Down my sugar walls He takes a taste He say there's none to waste... Then he returns to place his beautiful kisses upon my face Moves knees outta the way So he can put our puzzle pieces in place My cheeks twitch and vibrate at the quake of the way we Love Make Till I clench and he wince till his legs shake... I love him till he’s weak... Till he whispers to me: “Open your eyes…” His presence has caused my wetness To travel to the inside of these thighs Now I want to deny That I am drowning... In myself.... For I have awakened Only to find that I’d been dreamin'....
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47
The most beautiful maiden Bears dismal mannerisms That are perpetually incurable. The most inviting thing About a spiritless ****** Is the inexorable flame In her eyes. She fondles her necklace And closes her eyes and Swears not to smile. She says, “This one is fatal, and Forever. I will not be saved,” Calmly and remains lull. Why is it that The most memorable romance Is a crumbled heart that cannot be fixed, But cannot be forgotten and It is insufferably brutal But it is a flower to the eyes. An enormous negation, Yet pure substantiation, A correct falsehood. So swollen and senseless, A crumpled letter She fingers with those perfect hands That she reads over and over But it never makes any sense.
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Jan 5, 2010
Jan 5, 2010 at 12:36 AM UTC
Tracy