"religionist" poems
When the morning came up
I woke up
Facing that holy dead body of yours
I looked over myself and blushed
I was only wearing the smile that you gave me
Remembering what happened last night
Couldn't handle it, so I held you tight
Oh God!
You smell like heaven
Your aesthetic shape just turns me on
No philosopher, no scientist, no religionist, no therapist could solve my issue
Staring at your pale skin
Oh god I just wanna sink in
The way you shrink in
When you sleep
Makes me wanna stop time
Just to enjoy this visual masterpiece for a lifetime
The way I feel
In every holy step you make
Discovering every inch of my body
Sculpting blue love marks on the borders of my neck
The touch of your lips
Mesmerizing me as if I'm watching an eclipse
The movement of your fingertips
Dancing the smoothest choreography from my chest running down reaching my hips
Your husky deep voice
Eargasming my ears
Oh my God!
I'm lying down next to my treasure
Wake up and give me that painful pleasure
I love to suffer
Attach me to your bed with a tie made of a fancy leather
**** me slowly
Heal me
Take me to your world
Fill me in
Stick with me
Make our bodies as if they are one
Let's hear our hearts bumping our hot blood
Harmonizing the beat in the same rhythm
Creating our own beautiful symphony
And that when I finally moaned
" Wake up! You are my sweetest agony "
Oct 23, 2018
Oct 23, 2018 at 11:45 AM UTC
In an aside at the pub the other day,
I commented that the hockey player
Looked like a French-Canadian.
I was called a racist for that.
(but he did)
While watching some Miss Pageant
With her the other night,
I commented that all the women
Are beautiful enough to be crowned.
Now I'm a sexist.
(they were gorgeous)
For the sake of argument, I am a religionist.
I'm against Jihads, but I'm not Jihadist.
I don't go goo goo over babies,
So I suspect someone will say I'm an infantist.
She texted, saying she wants to fix the fight.
Well, I am a pugilist,
And I know when the fight's been fixed.
Jan 31, 2017
Jan 31, 2017 at 10:58 AM UTC