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PK Wakefield Jan 2012
heaven pinkly the
distinct hurt of your

       armor's folded

breach is
so
rawly
sore with

                 lust heaven and
so
sharp with

wetness heaven
letme
(heaven
               )pierce your folded
armor's
coiling cherry
with
my hand's
ablest
jousts heaven let
(when you're
ready                      heaven ) me i'll
smoothly
                shudder
                           ­   smother
                                            salted
honey fingers
heaven i'll
                         deeply tickle
                         your hurting
                         bones lusting(heaven)

— The End —