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"perkiness" poems
The froth on your perkiness took me to the brink. And ya know, I think I like this, kissing you in this hot bath, a tub full of bubbles.
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Aug 12, 2014
Aug 12, 2014 at 7:12 AM UTC
I Think I Like This Bubble Bath With You
If tomorrow didnt begin with that perky sun again, If tomorrow like me, Stayed in bed and didnt open its eyes. Would I not be tomorrow then? I could be tomorrow, as tomorrow could be me. Perkiness would go out the window Frivolity would go down the drain All that would remain Is the sulky little child sitting on the window sill. Staring at the darkness outside, smirking, For he has the sun in his Fist.
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Jan 20, 2014
Jan 20, 2014 at 4:15 AM UTC
Self Potrait
Your gentle touch, when you kiss me after an Icy drink, and tongue round my ears, when you hug me without holding back, and snuggle up with me in front of the TV, when you run your hands through my hair, and you caress my skin, leaving me intoxicated as you constrict my body. The delightful sound, of your lips parting, and your soothing whisper in my ear, the swell of your groans, and your exited pant, or your cute squeak, when you stroke my flesh, and our soaked chests stick together. My dazzled sight, when you gaze into me, or give me that irrisistable hot look, your flowing bronze chocolate hair, the perkiness of your smooth curves, the face structure of a goddess, and the most welcoming pure skin, I won't forget those colourful eyes. That tempting smell, of your natural scent, when you wake up in the morning, and your perfumes and products, or your warm home, and fresh washing powder, when I bury my nose deep into you, and soak up the essence of you. And the rich taste, of your delicate lips, and your soft cheeks, your agile tongue, or your running sweat, when I lap up your ******* or you loosen round my face, and I suckle as you gush.
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Feb 11, 2014
Feb 11, 2014 at 6:38 PM UTC
The Lighter Shade Of Love
i don't want to look like aunt rosa's grandmother who no longer wears a bra but a ***** sling a holster built strong enough to keep boulders from dropping out the sky every morning she would bend over and pour herself a D cup then lock them tightly on the third rail and pray that the 2 convicts didn't take flight in the middle of the day i try to prevent gravity from stealing the perkiness my lover loves every time i take a deep breath and they point guiltily at him but no matter how much support i've crossed my heart with gravity pulls and stretches my new bra till the straps tether and my cups runneth over spilling onto on to the reality of the hard cold floor
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Dec 24, 2014
Dec 24, 2014 at 8:29 PM UTC
a war with fate, genetically speaking