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"perspires" poems
It was quiet in the park, after lunch, the crowds are few. Here the statures live in terror because of what we pigeons do.. We’re adept at carpet bombing. pets and people feel our wrath. Our bowels are like loose cannons- Don’t dare venture in our path. Now, below, I see a poet with pen in hand composing. Intent upon the songbird’s tune or perchance he’s merely dozing His senses lulled by cricket’s song, He perspires in the heat. My calling card left on his suit. says chose a different seat.
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Dec 19, 2011
Dec 19, 2011 at 8:49 PM UTC
Pigeon English
It is in the lazy, hazy days of late summer In the heat, a daisy parts company My body perspires and sends a shimmer Of sparkling salt down my spine and skin A rose stands straight like cadet, red Like his beret, standing as proud as he. A tropical butterfly dances within The petals of the rose, tickling the row. The wind whispers its petals So secretly, so delicately, to and fro. The butterfly wears a brave face Watching the daisy and the rose With wings just like Nottingham lace. In the heat, my body embraces its wings And it kisses my hand, knowing its place In the lazy, hazy days of the summer.
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Jun 22, 2013
Jun 22, 2013 at 11:19 PM UTC
A Tropical Butterfly
The pen trembles, the paper perspires,the hand remains steady. Or is the mind weary and reality an illusion within a dream? Infatuated with harmonising every line. Your mind is violent but your words are quiet. incessantly bleeding the pen with no anguish, just anarchic serenity as you conclude with tranquil tragedies.
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Apr 27, 2014
Apr 27, 2014 at 4:14 PM UTC
poets?
It is in the lazy, hazy days of late summer In the heat, a daisy parts company My body perspires and sends a shimmer Of sparkling salt down my spine and skin A rose stands straight like cadet, red Like his beret, standing as proud as he. A tropical butterfly dances within The petals of the rose, tickling the row. The wind whispers its petals So secretly, so delicately, to and fro. The butterfly wears a brave face Watching the daisy and the rose With wings just like Nottingham lace. In the heat, my body embraces its wings And it kisses my hand, knowing its place In the lazy, hazy days of the summer.
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Feb 8, 2015
Feb 8, 2015 at 2:41 AM UTC
Tropical Butterflies
The sun blares upon me, as I gather my fruits from the tree of life. My body aches and perspires and I go on, picking them for my future. The gloom of this mundane, sets into my mind, as I toil in the heat. I yearn for the rain, to come and cleanse me of this toil and let me enjoy, the fruits.
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Jun 13, 2020
Jun 13, 2020 at 9:18 AM UTC
The fruits of the Mundane
Hot, Humid, Awake, Sweating, My body unshackled from the smothering confines of nightly fabric, I lie exposed and unveiled to the peeping eyes of the ****** night, The throne of my forested desire throbs with a pulsating fire, My body yearns, It turns here and there twisting the silky bed sheets, I reach for the pillow and press the soft coldness to my feverish face, My love for you will never ever ebb, I want you here to calm my stormy sensuality, I am no longer the captain of my libido laden ship, The wanton crew of my stirring soul is tossed upon ***** seas, My sails seep with love's liquid lechery and my fleshy mast is gorged and passionately perspires, It stiffly smoulders and itches and rises upright and the tip drips with aromatic moonlight, Let me rapidly stroke and come with all pistons pumping into your curvaceous Chinese port, Oh, my husky darling, throw wide open your harbour's shapely thighs, Let me plunge my craving anchor deeply, Oh! so wet and sweetly, Let the sultry fireworks of our carnality unify and our universes combine, Bliss! Oh, how I do so much dream of you, Yet... My tongue is parched, My ***** lips are dry, My throat hungrily burns, Oh! caress me, lick me, kiss me to life, Offer to me the hypnotic narcotic of your honey and let me **** upon your delicate dates moistened with the milky nectar of paradise, The air of your smooth touch alone would cool my licentious temperature, In the dawn I would surely rise to face the new day with a wicked smile making merry upon my chaste face. ©Rangzeb Hussain
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Jun 23, 2010
Jun 23, 2010 at 9:11 AM UTC
Alone in the Bed of Summer
Hot, Humid, Awake, Sweating, My body unshackled from the smothering confines of nightly fabric, I lie exposed and unveiled to the peeping eyes of the ****** night, The throne of my forested desire throbs with a pulsating fire, My body yearns, It turns here and there twisting the silky bed sheets, I reach for the pillow and press the soft coldness to my feverish face, My love for you will never ever ebb, I want you here to calm my stormy sensuality, I am no longer the captain of my libido laden ship, The wanton crew of my stirring soul is tossed upon ***** seas, My sails seep with love's liquid lechery and my fleshy mast is gorged and passionately perspires, It stiffly smoulders and itches and rises upright and the tip drips with aromatic moonlight, Let me rapidly stroke and come with all pistons pumping into your curvaceous Chinese port, Oh, my husky darling, throw wide open your harbour's shapely thighs, Let me plunge my craving anchor deeply, Oh! so wet and sweetly, Let the sultry fireworks of our carnality unify and our universes combine, Bliss! Oh, how I do so much dream of you, Yet... My tongue is parched, My ***** lips are dry, My throat hungrily burns, Oh! caress me, lick me, kiss me to life, Offer to me the hypnotic narcotic of your honey and let me **** upon your delicate dates moistened with the milky nectar of paradise, The air of your smooth touch alone would cool my licentious temperature, In the dawn I would surely rise to face the new day with a wicked smile making merry upon my chaste face. ©Rangzeb Hussain
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51
I get confused when People discuss love as if It's a vague word But no it's so much more Love was portrayed wrong In fairytales because they introduced Love at first sight But didn't emphasize that love isn't about looks Sometimes the evil villain Could be the one with the pretty face Or the one with the white horse Whereas Prince Charming Could be a pauper Who has to work for a living and perspires a lot He could be clad in not-so-fancy clothings Then again,that's only one aspect of love There could be siblings love There could be passion Also faith . I witness love first hand, when people pray when a person gobbles up their food Without showing off on social media When a pair of old couple uses sign language to Understand each other. Love isn't so simple It's weird and complicated but One day, I want to have my own love story, A little but less than a Fairytale.
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Dec 6, 2013
Dec 6, 2013 at 11:39 AM UTC
What love is
Love, so colourful and magical yet blind at first changes just as swiftly as the seasons change, love perspires ever slowly and inapparently, till it is lacklustre and lost in the air forever, Replaced with pretence for the sake of old times, masking uninterestedness with a fake curiosity. Lies come freely as one tries not to be obnoxious. But seemingly, both are trying not to be insolent, with both professing about love in the air tonight, even when neither feel even a pinch of it in heart.
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Oct 12, 2019
Oct 12, 2019 at 3:51 AM UTC
Love as it ages
It is in the lazy, hazy days of late summer In the heat, a daisy parts company My body perspires and sends a shimmer Of sparkling salt down my spine and skin A rose stands straight like cadet, red Like his beret, standing as proud as he. A tropical butterfly dances within The petals of the rose, tickling the row. The wind whispers its petals So secretly, so delicately, to and fro. The butterfly wears a brave face Watching the daisy and the rose With wings just like Nottingham lace. In the heat, my body embraces its wings And it kisses my hand, knowing its place In the lazy, hazy days of the summer.
0
May 18, 2014
May 18, 2014 at 12:54 PM UTC
A Tropical Butterfly - a repost
Romantic rhythms resting in your rib cage Send riddles for your mind to unravel. Burning eyes, smoking mouths like the Natives sage Rosey faces and empty skull spaces dazzle Brains replaced with bubble gum Chewed by the teeth of an Argyranthemum Over your hairy glory ivory vessel Light hands travel Over rising ecstasy bellies Flooded with golden honey and angel eyelash kisses. Tongues of desire and feeling of fire Licking at your thighs. Put out with my body of water Rising and falling while skin perspires.
0
Jan 10, 2013
Jan 10, 2013 at 10:29 PM UTC
Untitled #1
he is in love with **** tho' love is unfamiliar ground, for what is it if never known or felt, defined like the touch of first rain in spring neither does this bring joy to him, new to this, but in it's circumference he must linger and observe such obeyence on octane rushed inner space... he is in love with a human ***** the shape and size oddly gleams his strength above yet attentive below, how Dali-images he melts flap-cakes on forrest-limbs, barren elms and soggy wall clocks that sit in the dry lakes sadness of a numbered face... he is rusting from the wonder how does it function like keys to unlock hidden thunder? he is curious to how this might sound / under    clank of legs? ***** of the skins how soft will his iron lips begin? tic-tic-ticking : his suedo-heart's repetition no different than those yesterdays mechanical, steady, as oil perspires from hollow wells and in moments of fearing rain    showers will stiffen the joints like pertrified woods man, shuts closed the foil shiney eyes, and mouth of silver lips rusting in the quickness like lightning fingers the opaque sky... he must have it this new flesh of a thing called a **** so he may tell the sunrise and use the magic it gives men ******* to name the flesh... the affects are unsimiliar to him, made of hollow tin man, he is in love with **** his mouth is crystalized thin    moaning through the metallics of rust & unspoken sins the affects on him, made hollow ... they are as similar to the pink heavy man having loved the woods, the same but walks away in flesh & pouring rain on him without a word to say petrified and moaning, lightning in the skies - yes, woodsman, the affects of your love are the same, with or without a heart... even rusted he is in love with **** sad power of men                to finally understand ... there is more to flesh and less of tin when it deals with love tick-tock-ticking the function of the heart within shells of men will mock Body. Heart/Spirit. Watts.
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Dec 25, 2015
Dec 25, 2015 at 1:35 PM UTC
LAMENTATION OF THE GAY TIN MAN (Spoken Word #5)
he is in love with **** tho' love is unfamiliar ground, for what is it if never known or felt, defined like the touch of first rain in spring neither does this bring joy to him, new to this, but in it's circumference he must linger and observe such obeyence on octane rushed inner space... he is in love with a human ***** the shape and size oddly gleams his strength above yet attentive below, how Dali-images he melts flap-cakes on forrest-limbs, barren elms and soggy wall clocks that sit in the dry lakes sadness of a numbered face... he is rusting from the wonder how does it function like keys to unlock hidden thunder? he is curious to how this might sound / under    clank of legs? ***** of the skins how soft will his iron lips begin? tic-tic-ticking : his suedo-heart's repetition no different than those yesterdays mechanical, steady, as oil perspires from hollow wells and in moments of fearing rain    showers will stiffen the joints like pertrified woods man, shuts closed the foil shiney eyes, and mouth of silver lips rusting in the quickness like lightning fingers the opaque sky... he must have it this new flesh of a thing called a **** so he may tell the sunrise and use the magic it gives men ******* to name the flesh... the affects are unsimiliar to him, made of hollow tin man, he is in love with **** his mouth is crystalized thin    moaning through the metallics of rust & unspoken sins the affects on him, made hollow ... they are as similar to the pink heavy man having loved the woods, the same but walks away in flesh & pouring rain on him without a word to say petrified and moaning, lightning in the skies - yes, woodsman, the affects of your love are the same, with or without a heart... even rusted he is in love with **** sad power of men                to finally understand ... there is more to flesh and less of tin when it deals with love tick-tock-ticking the function of the heart within shells of men will mock Body. Heart/Spirit. Watts.
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68
*Must we wait for stars when our love seems enough to light the way can't we be moons for the nights, shall we keep waiting for the day? are we going to enjoy the beams from our eyes or just remain poles apart longing for the moment beaming sun will rise? must we always wait for sleep  just so we finally dream can't we conciously dare to dream about letting our passion scream? shall we wait for Oceans to dry,can't we build bridges will the door of our affinity last that long on these rusty hinges? are we enough for each other or are we going to hunger and thirst won't we question us all the time or will we completely count on our trust? Won't we crumble and stumble in the dark caves and stormy waves will we stick together even when karma turns us to slaves? must we wait for the saddened birds to sing their songs can't our hearts sing in appreciation of finding where they belong? won't we keep dreaming of finding a better place to live in if we can't make a better place of the historical cities within? will we forgive each other when we make mistakes won't our humanity and faults determine the long this takes? why wait for the joys to write poetry and stories of romance can't we pen every dance, delightful or sad by any chance Can't we do everything it takes to be closer than this shall wishes be our embrace and virtually flying forever our kiss? will we be able to endure the long while we only have us at Heart until it's no longer like that, until we cease to be oceans apart? can we always press restart when we pause and when we hurt won't we fail to pick up, and at the first fall this love might depart? must we wait till we have enough cash to own mansions and yacht can't we find content in the little,in starting together from scratch? will we hike up the hill together, toil and sweat for the fruits shall another remain down the foot and look on as one perspires? will we extinguish our flames or just embrace the burning desires shall we seal the cracks,won't we look on whilst they tear further into canyons and consequently mute the lutes? must we wait for the mango of our attraction to ripen shouldn't we peel the bitter Exocarp and with salt eat the endocarp raw? can't we make the best of the opportunities that are open instead of looking on at the flowers of us waiting for them to grow? must we wait to follow in the footprints of tales of true love can't we just pave a way to a new plot ,one we deserve? must we painfully wait for the engagement ring to decide shouldn't we be jumping onto the motorboat of life and enjoying the ride?*
0
Mar 25, 2016
Mar 25, 2016 at 5:49 PM UTC
Questions Unasked
*Must we wait for stars when our love seems enough to light the way can't we be moons for the nights, shall we keep waiting for the day? are we going to enjoy the beams from our eyes or just remain poles apart longing for the moment beaming sun will rise? must we always wait for sleep  just so we finally dream can't we conciously dare to dream about letting our passion scream? shall we wait for Oceans to dry,can't we build bridges will the door of our affinity last that long on these rusty hinges? are we enough for each other or are we going to hunger and thirst won't we question us all the time or will we completely count on our trust? Won't we crumble and stumble in the dark caves and stormy waves will we stick together even when karma turns us to slaves? must we wait for the saddened birds to sing their songs can't our hearts sing in appreciation of finding where they belong? won't we keep dreaming of finding a better place to live in if we can't make a better place of the historical cities within? will we forgive each other when we make mistakes won't our humanity and faults determine the long this takes? why wait for the joys to write poetry and stories of romance can't we pen every dance, delightful or sad by any chance Can't we do everything it takes to be closer than this shall wishes be our embrace and virtually flying forever our kiss? will we be able to endure the long while we only have us at Heart until it's no longer like that, until we cease to be oceans apart? can we always press restart when we pause and when we hurt won't we fail to pick up, and at the first fall this love might depart? must we wait till we have enough cash to own mansions and yacht can't we find content in the little,in starting together from scratch? will we hike up the hill together, toil and sweat for the fruits shall another remain down the foot and look on as one perspires? will we extinguish our flames or just embrace the burning desires shall we seal the cracks,won't we look on whilst they tear further into canyons and consequently mute the lutes? must we wait for the mango of our attraction to ripen shouldn't we peel the bitter Exocarp and with salt eat the endocarp raw? can't we make the best of the opportunities that are open instead of looking on at the flowers of us waiting for them to grow? must we wait to follow in the footprints of tales of true love can't we just pave a way to a new plot ,one we deserve? must we painfully wait for the engagement ring to decide shouldn't we be jumping onto the motorboat of life and enjoying the ride?*
Continue reading...
41
I peeked down the corridor and there within I saw Nothing. Utter dark and null devoid of bright or dull. Recoil'd not I from the drear' in holding back childish fear.       Of the Dark       My ear it crept closer still towards the sound of zilch and nil, nothing. Vacuous silence, drumming steady absence. Tempted by the resting rhythm - absent metre and system.       .       Deepest cold pierces the nose out of shadow its scent arose, Nothing. Faint eau de toilette, an odourless silhouette. Made curious to explore beyond what was heard or saw.       Impatience tipped my tongue caution begging to be flung, No More - ravenous nether thirsting night tide aether. Mouth salivates and perspires, drowning in the lightless mire. --       At last - I am one and none, for I the darkness has come, Senses suspended: sound, sight, scent, taste, now touch the night. No I nor we - no more ... Solemn stately corridor,       Of the dark.
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Apr 20, 2018
Apr 20, 2018 at 9:41 AM UTC
The Dark
I wonder what spins around that star That one up there, the one up far Part of the glories of the universe, Another golden purse, beautifully diverse, Does its gravity warmly embrace An intelligent race or just empty rocks in space? Or is it there for us to admire, Another signal fire, the blackness perspires, Like a woman who can’t have kids, But showers loving fits on her friends’ misfits, However, I hope, she is a mother, To sons and daughters, sisters and brothers, Where beings love and live and lie, Things cry and fly and hope never dies, I hope they gaze at night at our own mother, And their hearts flutter, and wonder, like we wonder
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May 3, 2014
May 3, 2014 at 2:19 PM UTC
Around that Star
A cerebral puddle of hypersensitive learning static -- I dip into a forbidden fountain once again -- deeper this time Exposing the buffoon of our own nature and both dressing it and addressing it. Taking it apart Analysis and fragmentation An obseversationalist's dream! Expanding the groundwork laid out before me and building an empire with the infinite knowledge I attain (through means less conventional... To some) I throw the dice again and again. I never lose... just my luck I suppose? But in reality I could of lost it all that day... Brain drunk in mindlessness... Blazed- in a sunset overcoat, my radiator blood stream perspires in a way that I had never seen until now... Fading in and out of focus ~My safe zone is diminishing~ I can no longer draw you the lines I walked that day. Alleviating my sickness for a time and Vexing my temporary cure... I really must be ill
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Jul 20, 2017
Jul 20, 2017 at 11:45 PM UTC
Solution Procured
Slowly dripping. Slowly ticking. Quickly fading. Quickly changing. Continuously falling. Continuously falling. The sweat that perspires from my forehead. The clock that lies right above my death bed. My vison that was once crystal clear. My twisted demonic thoughts through out my years. Me as I slipped. Me as I tripped. Im contiously falling..... Bright lights from above. Im momentarily blinded. An angel.. the angel love. A messanger for me to be reminded. All is never lost. There is always a way. No excuses no denial. There is always oppurtunties to stop from drifting away. Memories can not harm you. They are just reminders that you have overcome. All the pain you have suffered. Once you can move on..... You have won.
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Jun 2, 2016
Jun 2, 2016 at 11:57 PM UTC
Angel of Love
*You reek of alcohol, And as you try to crawl your way into sanity Your skin perspires with sweat of desperation You reek of cigarettes, As you let the thick smoke linger inside your thoughts Blinding you from your own pure existence Then, you begin to cease everything you've done You let time heal you, and now, You reek of nothing but of love*
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Mar 14, 2017
Mar 14, 2017 at 11:24 AM UTC
Vices
A marble stone perspires Naked among a hall of flames Its soul slowly expires Melting under the fires Art among a hall of all blames. Marred, o meandering mind Attached, and tainted by human kind Grazed and abused by God's gold gaze Numbed and mumbling in a maze Irked, taken by the moral bind Fearing this fool felony Idling to be once loved again Collapsing in agony At you goes this poetry Trying to tear apart your pain… March 20, 2013
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Nov 28, 2015
Nov 28, 2015 at 6:28 AM UTC
Anima Magnificat
Your immaculate touch and warm embrace Your my shining light my sweet caress your burning lips and perfect hips A little taste is a fulfilling feat Drenched in saline tumbling fingers down your spine Dry skin perspires flooded with wine Sip and lick all the pleasure is mine I am going deeper while your angelic eyes shine Oh so smooth your skin feels so very fine Silent cries begging faster and for more The earth shakes and crumble while we do it on floor With bodies intact glued together as one Every shrug is as hot as **** burning like the sun Only you and I are the victim who gladly surrendered Till' the moment it melts and spills, a love to remember
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Feb 25, 2015
Feb 25, 2015 at 4:40 AM UTC
A Love To Remember
The *** in his hand starts to move To till the soil, he shoves and shoves He doesn’t care the weight of the world He thinks of you, he produces food. He worked silently under the scorching sun With no complains, heavy works in hand He perspires so much that glitters in his head That forms like that of precious beads. Seems underrated in the midst of life He has to work beyond his sight His work is a precious reason To nourish you, a generation be born. His unconditional love to the people Beyond of his measured goal His heart is as vast as the sea Made us survive day by day. Unsung hero, redefined the word fought His work was not as much they thought Without his life, the world will doom The world may seem an empty room.
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Oct 26, 2018
Oct 26, 2018 at 6:57 AM UTC
Farmers
The prince of the flowers of malevil Sees the black creature In the dark night, hard Hallucinatory skin The top note so pure Heart, depth, body, under her shawl She is woman, moving In the author’s mind The night of her mysteries Does not follow the hour Of day taking the earth His perfume however perspires Of the poet’s mind, This is not a study Letters can tell the difference Between a worried passerby And a non-existent love For Baudelaire, skinny. His ***** mistress Of his desires and angers His body makes him suffer The poet writhes Under the pressure and the spell Of his harmful fragrance Written on December 13, 2016 Lyon Metro Translated on April 19, 2017
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Apr 19, 2017
Apr 19, 2017 at 12:29 PM UTC
Nuit Blanche (Sleepless Night)
As her mind perspires I'll gladly give her a reason to respire I'll be your only squire Treat you like a gentleman from Berkshire Make those heartbeats higher Dousing her sorrows Causing her to perspire Equidistant of both her lower appendages
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Sep 27, 2017
Sep 27, 2017 at 6:56 AM UTC
Berkshire
To be or not to be... What is it that is so captivating of a tree The plants that stand in Noble stance To have no eyes But to see more than the eyes can see To uphold a roof that all dwell under Filtering the abominations in the sky What would we be without air... We must take time to slow down and care The buffet for our lungs to sing what must be sung and to feed the flame of the Mighty bright heat of a fire that perspires to warm my flesh An invention of the gods to make  variant dishes more edible that aren't so fresh The  guiding light in dark cold nights To lead me to the water that baptizes my organs to keep me floating in a mental elemental paradise Oh how wise to recognise and appreciate the fate of the gifts in this elemental paradise The soul glides through it's endeavors The ether it's home Come back to me and melt with the crone
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Dec 29, 2018
Dec 29, 2018 at 1:39 PM UTC
Elementally mental
at night landbreeze heads back to seas and seeds of dreams do blow roots dig deep in buoyancy with memories in tow anything not anchored down by earthclung facts and doubt, unsound thoughts get swept and bound by hopeful tumult’s spout awash inside an ocean tumbl’d bumbling, all blues, emotion in implosion under pressure becomes truths those clouds aloft in springtime brew do breach the moon and glow but nothing which perspires dew does last the dawn, I know
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Mar 12, 2017
Mar 12, 2017 at 1:14 PM UTC
Arriere-Pensee
Your breath against my skin The events about to transpire It just got really hot in here 'cause I came too close to your fire Desperate for your affections And your midnight desires Just sitting here close to you My wanton body perspires Our bodies fit like a mold Made only for us two Lovers that can share this Are reserved only for a few
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Oct 13, 2018
Oct 13, 2018 at 10:47 PM UTC
Your Fire