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"plushness" poems
rich with the depth and intensity of oxidized blood, a plushness caresses my bare skin. my fingers tracing against the grain of the fabric slowly seducing as the canvas becomes duo chrome the tip of my finger a nymph cunning and artful the strokes offering an insatiable thirst yet so in control finally it succumbs turning a tide of new color permeating from where my touch once was a culmination of sorts leaving you enamored.
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Sep 2, 2015
Sep 2, 2015 at 8:04 PM UTC
Velvet
Well, you're beautiful, aren't you? Something about you makes me want to stay Perhaps it's the way the breeze feels when you radiate warmth Or the way your soft, cold plushness feels against my skin. Or the calmness you bring to me when everything seems to speed up. My favorite gift from you, The best thing you've given me is Clear skies Bright eyes And hope. I'm in love with the earth.
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Jan 6, 2014
Jan 6, 2014 at 10:19 PM UTC
Clear Skies, Bright Eyes
in the warm pleasure of a pillowy plushness as we settle in 4 bed dozens of candles dimly (dancing) lighting the room two silouettes curvaceous, crazy calling out names frantic, feverish moving melodic rhythmic, rhapsodic mmmnnn... (it's getting warm in here) rapidly warming degrees of desire sweating, squirming melting into u...
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Aug 7, 2011
Aug 7, 2011 at 7:55 PM UTC
untitled
I want to push on the plushness of your face and tell you all the ways you make me smile. Your voice is a drop of warm honey, fresh from the comb, settling into my stomach. You have turned my heart into a hexagon of wax. And when you laugh I can hear bees humming home home home home.
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Sep 5, 2013
Sep 5, 2013 at 9:55 PM UTC
Bees
Library pulsing with audible shrieking and terrible scent tattered books slid from his back shelf a years will of sociable training flushed and swirling, as he, loneliest and surrounded by himself, visualized purpose, innermost being. And he slouched down within the plushness of a navy couch and absorbed his moment, and dreams tangible grew from his index.
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Feb 3, 2014
Feb 3, 2014 at 1:55 PM UTC
only a slacker's potential
Her chair by the grandfather clock Creaked with ticking and tocking - a moment awaits She grips her hands softly Her furrowed brow creased and squinted a moments memory The pillows of green lounged and her lover caressed her golden locks 1964 In memories of black and white his arms carried her She carried him with her In plushness, her cheeks puffed, her lips puckered Her blue eyes gleaming vivaciously As the waving goldness of yellow and orange waved back and forth Leaning their backs towards the eye of the sun The couple gleefully, held on to one another Hours turned over into days - passing by time They gripped tight on to eachother. Moving in they moon danced to the stars Sleeping in their hammock Yet she felt him loosen with ease The flower by their sink rotten and cumbled into oblivion She cried for days yet they held on to each other The mail man comes early today..... She heard him cry The foreboding of death crawled into their home, unexpectedly The grim fate had him pulled him away Cut loose and shield our touches - his departure to the battlefield His flights leaves and time is the hourglass She recalls the night of his departure vividly 6:34 - Fighting 6:41 - Screaming 6:45 - All of the kitchen ware is shattered 6:53 - Him gluing the parts together 7:00 - Making love 7:39 - Him walking down the street waving 7:45 pm - Lights out Current Day Every day sitting Lights out Sipping white wine in a tea cup - awaiting a knock The slow creak of her door opens Opens ever so slightly, yet she sees a tall shadow She steps up, puts her cup down and sees someone
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Apr 6, 2016
Apr 6, 2016 at 12:59 AM UTC
Grip
Her chair by the grandfather clock Creaked with ticking and tocking - a moment awaits She grips her hands softly Her furrowed brow creased and squinted a moments memory The pillows of green lounged and her lover caressed her golden locks 1964 In memories of black and white his arms carried her She carried him with her In plushness, her cheeks puffed, her lips puckered Her blue eyes gleaming vivaciously As the waving goldness of yellow and orange waved back and forth Leaning their backs towards the eye of the sun The couple gleefully, held on to one another Hours turned over into days - passing by time They gripped tight on to eachother. Moving in they moon danced to the stars Sleeping in their hammock Yet she felt him loosen with ease The flower by their sink rotten and cumbled into oblivion She cried for days yet they held on to each other The mail man comes early today..... She heard him cry The foreboding of death crawled into their home, unexpectedly The grim fate had him pulled him away Cut loose and shield our touches - his departure to the battlefield His flights leaves and time is the hourglass She recalls the night of his departure vividly 6:34 - Fighting 6:41 - Screaming 6:45 - All of the kitchen ware is shattered 6:53 - Him gluing the parts together 7:00 - Making love 7:39 - Him walking down the street waving 7:45 pm - Lights out Current Day Every day sitting Lights out Sipping white wine in a tea cup - awaiting a knock The slow creak of her door opens Opens ever so slightly, yet she sees a tall shadow She steps up, puts her cup down and sees someone
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Butterfly Pigmented and fragile they seem. Beautifully they fly teem. Transformed from caterpillars, they are the patience pillars. They can compete with sunshine, they can defeat the rainbow shine. They are the princesses of flight, they are hard to catch in the sky. They are buttered and buffered, they are colorfully painted. They have crossed various phases, and they are called metamorphosis. Attractive, alluring, radiant, and reckless. With the arduousness and plushness, they are elegant mobile entertainers. Dr.Marysuresh
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Jul 24, 2020
Jul 24, 2020 at 4:00 AM UTC
Oh! Butterfly