"profane" poems - Hello Poetry

ken not the vive la différence! entre les deux, these two bed and head chambers, for all poets are seducers, regardless of *** race, creed or color when first we employ our working, yeoman vocabulary, we plain start, to relate but not to regale, the whom we are, hoping our moments unique, will breach the boundaries of our collective commonality connectivity, and find human receptivity thus, the seduction of self commences though every possible combination of words has somewhere been inscribed and committed, we ****** ourselves (the seduction of poetry) with potions of notions that we are and always be our first, and now soon forever, yours as well of course, we are, it's true, our very own first admirer & lover, having conquered the hillock of self, see the universe expanding and the ****** need to conceive and prowess to please beyond the beyond with the poetry of seduction do not want your body, heart or soul, commitment, allegiance, vows, sacred or profane, all such in vain crave your everything, not even a legal nine-tenths satisfactory dare not call me arrogant or presumptive, gaze upon the mirror that cannot lie, rereading thy words assemblage, and deny to lie to yourself want you, you want me, my adoration, we want to be in a poem together, lovers at the molecular level where words dissected into letters, then again, into guttural sounds where a simple outcry is an elegy, a love poem, a wound, a denouement, a preface, a tear, a welling, a heaving, a sigh, an exhalation, all, an entrance to where the need for words is long since past the sin and crown of seduction completed, unanimously now breathe out and then, breathe in

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Jul 3, 2017

Jul 3, 2017 at 3:54 PM UTC

makingloveintheafternoon

the poetry of seduction, the seduction of poetry

ken not the vive la différence! entre les deux, these two bed and head chambers, for all poets are seducers, regardless of *** race, creed or color when first we employ our working, yeoman vocabulary, we plain start, to relate but not to regale, the whom we are, hoping our moments unique, will breach the boundaries of our collective commonality connectivity, and find human receptivity thus, the seduction of self commences though every possible combination of words has somewhere been inscribed and committed, we ****** ourselves (the seduction of poetry) with potions of notions that we are and always be our first, and now soon forever, yours as well of course, we are, it's true, our very own first admirer & lover, having conquered the hillock of self, see the universe expanding and the ****** need to conceive and prowess to please beyond the beyond with the poetry of seduction do not want your body, heart or soul, commitment, allegiance, vows, sacred or profane, all such in vain crave your everything, not even a legal nine-tenths satisfactory dare not call me arrogant or presumptive, gaze upon the mirror that cannot lie, rereading thy words assemblage, and deny to lie to yourself want you, you want me, my adoration, we want to be in a poem together, lovers at the molecular level where words dissected into letters, then again, into guttural sounds where a simple outcry is an elegy, a love poem, a wound, a denouement, a preface, a tear, a welling, a heaving, a sigh, an exhalation, all, an entrance to where the need for words is long since past the sin and crown of seduction completed, unanimously now breathe out and then, breathe in