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His eyes, they look at me, glamoring me into his lust
His touch, awakens all the senses I never knew I had
His breath, sending waves of electricity throughout my body
His smell, reminds me of the ocean, sweet, refreshing and calm
The deeper he goes, the deeper we go
With every movement, time seems to fade to black
The rhythms, like drums, like rain, like a heartbeat
Our hearts beat as one, the tension, builds up as one
And for a moment, just one moment
His eyes, they look at me with loving content
His touch, firmly takes a hold of me
His breath, he holds it as
His smell, it lingers in my senses
The explosions, like fireworks, like jolts of passion, like ******
Our hearts, beating as one, our passion, releasing as one
And for a moment, just one moment
His eyes, they look at me with disgust
His touch, is cold, it's lifeless
His breath, is ragged and shallow
His smell, is bitter and angry
And for a moment, just one moment
I don't feel dead anymore
This poem was inspired by the show True Blood. It depicts the way a vampire 'glamors' humans into giving them their blood or ***.
Michael W Noland Jun 2013
771
Met her at the docking station
She was waiting for the Moon
I, the United Space station
Frozen in the swoon
Of passing spaceships
Tho determined to see it through
Our gazes patiently vacant

As we drifted our eyes
Over the earthly spikes
Of majestic might
Just to pass our sights
Over our nights
Of light-less sights
Glamoring us goodnight

Where fragility was born
As our ships docked
Feeling torn
The seals unlocked
And i mourned
As I walked with the flock
On board

Her face further than before
Looking for the door
As I was adorned
In crowds of explorers
Looking for more
Than the love born
In this vacuous swarm

I clamber for a window
To see her face
And i watched it glow
As it drifted farther away
And i will never know
Her graces amongst this place
As I just minded the flow

And detonated the station
For the poverty of a nation
But the expansion of the blast
Pulled her into its caste
And the hole surpassed
Our flight paths
As our cluttered wrecks amassed

But I was not alone
As she triggers her past
In the eye of the storm
Reestablishing eye contact
She holds to her form
In the secondary blast
And together we roamed

Into the beautiful black holes
PK Wakefield Jan 2011
i,ve made love to a woman
whom twas a radiant fauld
of glamoring apath            y

yet i often dreamily
recall in lazy strings of lucid
her nice hair
                         or
patient grass

often as i culled the fairy heat, her *****

       i'd say in particular her name

a            n                                             ­            d           itt wasSUMmer,

— The End —