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"sensually" poems
I feel worried that there has been such a long stretch of time without reward seeking behavior that the part of my brain which handles motivation is now a cold plate of hamburger By this stage in a man's life, should he not seek another's company? I don't chill as I did during the time my mind still was soft and simple I've grown into melancholy, though many memories ago I'd desired socialization There is globalization; I feel alone, I've bathed, I'm soaked in isolation I set out two years ago to be sure that I learn before I continue to live, my reasoning suggested that this action shall produce enormous benefit and my self-esteem was gleaming hot & sensually satisfied This I learned at 21 was not just for women But for the wise whom admit they need it I shall try to smile more, perhaps my brain does not know what reward is I will fool my brain into happiness, you'll see With a new mindful world these words will be continued
0
Jan 30, 2013
Jan 30, 2013 at 4:35 PM UTC
melancholy
Undress my lover, fair Naked, standing there Destiny of desire for you Ready for what we will do Every touch is ecstasy Sensually setting free ****** need, explored tonight Endless lust until day light Darling, I love you undressed
0
Feb 5, 2016
Feb 5, 2016 at 10:07 AM UTC
Undressed
*blindfolded taste test teasing my tongue sensually erotically sweet*
0
Aug 15, 2017
Aug 15, 2017 at 9:10 AM UTC
Mmmm
Be my novel tonight Allow me to navigate the depths of your thoughts and journey through the pathways of your mind while merging in my imagination and infusing in my wildest poetic fantasies.  Inscribing in our bedpost an unforgettable bestseller. Be my music tonight Let me groove to the beat of your heart picking up pace as I explore new ways to invoke melodious outbursts. I want to sing a duet with you of synchronized moans and pleasurable sighs.  Culminating with you belting out my name in one final perfect note. Be my masterpiece tonight Permit me to trace my fingertips across every inch of your frame as I find your sensually stimulating spots. Armed with new knowledge and intent, sit back as I stroke you with my brushes of desire and take you on a creative adventure of twists and turns as I bring to life my finest work of art and watch with all anticipation your love erupt. © Tina Thompson
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Mar 3, 2012
Mar 3, 2012 at 2:30 PM UTC
Inspire Me
Hidden behind my desires. Fantasies of ecstasy frustrating me. My body tempting me sensually. Sexuality turning on me, arousing my entity. My fingers betraying me, ****** my body eagerly. Probing between my legs relentlessly, consuming my whole body; selfishly. Weakening my flesh; this tantalizing energy claiming the deepest depths of my ***** Scandalous imagery, mentally ravaging me, seducing me, teasing my lips, guiding my fingertips effortlessly, long fingers dip, disappearing; deep inside of me. My ***** tightens, the feelings heighten. Warm liquids drip, stone hard **** pulling and rubbing it. Wrist twist,palm grinding against my ***** legs clasp, my insides amass giving way, As I spray, my exhausted body collapses.
0
Oct 6, 2014
Oct 6, 2014 at 10:26 PM UTC
Temptress (Explicit)
Sensually surrenders to me Utter submission set free Bonded to my will Made to satisfy my thrill In dominance I must live Satisfaction she will give Slave to my carnal desire Innocent to my burning fire Obey the punishment above Naked for our darkest love
0
Aug 10, 2014
Aug 10, 2014 at 10:49 AM UTC
462: Submission
Inspired by a vintage ****** postcard from the 1920s - 30s: The Muse sits resplendent caressed in sepia tones and pastel cream gilded with the glaze of a bygone era her silk Charleston negligee worn proud like a vintage ornament perched on an aesthetically pleasing shapely pert insolent ***** blossomed with tiny beads of sweat the heat of such anticipation entices the pearls of the ****** to pamper and pleasure their perversions etched as if in a radiance of candlelight the flickering limbs pulse their bloom nimble fingers of dancing shadows cupping the feline curves of a chaise longue the purposefully out of place set piece the fantasy of a gentleman's reading room caked in casked sherry and Nat Sherman cigar infused aromas her elegant pose sumptuous reclining elbow length satin gloves sensually wrapped in wanton desire two fingers clasp a Sorbranie Black Russian smoked like a sultry gypsy with a fervent demeanour from a silver opera cigarette holder beckoning with the cats eyes of mischief over Pinced nez eyeglasses with a fascination imbibed in the praxis of passion the peach skin of refulgent youth directs the viewer downwards, slowly survey each contour of olive skin and stroke every hidden cleft of fabric to glimpse the nubile thighs of grace leading the eye to the arch of an ankle slipped like a fitted glove nestled in the cleavage of her calf and the chastity of future wonderment the forgotten photograph captures a period in time the memories of the muse now in motionless existence a demure allure forever frozen once lost, but now never forgotten
0
Dec 1, 2012
Dec 1, 2012 at 2:40 AM UTC
Decadence of a Muse
Inspired by a vintage ****** postcard from the 1920s - 30s: The Muse sits resplendent caressed in sepia tones and pastel cream gilded with the glaze of a bygone era her silk Charleston negligee worn proud like a vintage ornament perched on an aesthetically pleasing shapely pert insolent ***** blossomed with tiny beads of sweat the heat of such anticipation entices the pearls of the ****** to pamper and pleasure their perversions etched as if in a radiance of candlelight the flickering limbs pulse their bloom nimble fingers of dancing shadows cupping the feline curves of a chaise longue the purposefully out of place set piece the fantasy of a gentleman's reading room caked in casked sherry and Nat Sherman cigar infused aromas her elegant pose sumptuous reclining elbow length satin gloves sensually wrapped in wanton desire two fingers clasp a Sorbranie Black Russian smoked like a sultry gypsy with a fervent demeanour from a silver opera cigarette holder beckoning with the cats eyes of mischief over Pinced nez eyeglasses with a fascination imbibed in the praxis of passion the peach skin of refulgent youth directs the viewer downwards, slowly survey each contour of olive skin and stroke every hidden cleft of fabric to glimpse the nubile thighs of grace leading the eye to the arch of an ankle slipped like a fitted glove nestled in the cleavage of her calf and the chastity of future wonderment the forgotten photograph captures a period in time the memories of the muse now in motionless existence a demure allure forever frozen once lost, but now never forgotten
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47
Vermillion lips smile knowingly across the room, so at ease it's almost angelic to see. He grips his wine glass to almost breaking point, what the **** is she doing here? More to the point ,How is she here? Relationships are like cats, let them out, and well they'd better be neutered. That's what gramma said! Slowly, sensually almost, she sashayed over to him, she could see his tension, but not his fear.........yet. Face to face they smile, but her smile never reaches her eyes, he stammers, drops his glass, 'Here, she says you need air' Outside, he's composed 'No one knows, no one knows' he keeps repeating Who are you talking to darling? She whispers Not me,I'm dead, you shot me, I was there, then kicks him hard Vulnerable alone with his red mouthed wife he screams. Guests rush out, to their host babbling, Incoherent, confessing to ****** screaming over and over, blue lights in the distance Closer and closer, guests now witnesses. Host now completely within the pain of a mental Eternal mind slip. She, moves closer to him, soothes him, sirens closer, reassures him as he screams,that yes his wife is dead appeased he looks up in bewilderment. Oh, me, oh darling brother in law did you forget? Jo's twin, the one au-pairing abroad when you married Pleased to meet you
0
May 22, 2014
May 22, 2014 at 6:32 PM UTC
Sealed with Lips
Blondes illuminate The dizzy world of men, Confident and forthright And simply, oozing acumen. So sensually brazen In a silly sort of way Yet intuitively capable Of leading all of them astray. Blondes are irresistible When they catch the errant eyes, When their pearly, sky blue peepers Irradiate and mesmerize. When they catch him glancing At a nicely rounded *** When rosebud lip's apouting Leave him breathless, limp and numb. Blondes move in a manner Which defies all things right, It's a sweet undulation Which turns day, straight into night. It's suggestion incarnate And quite breathlessly so. Causing pulses to race And his expectations to grow. Blondes think in straight lines Periferals are lost, And woe betide myopics Who underestimate at their cost. Golden locks breed pushiness The will to have her way, And the man who calls a challenge Won't survive another day. Blondes are soft and fluffy Dimpled cheeks and curve of thigh, And are specialists in the art Of come hither to the guy. But just beneath the garnish Is a mind that calculates And a passion for success And a taste for wealth that rates. Marshalg @theBach Mangere Bridge 19 January 2010
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Jan 18, 2010
Jan 18, 2010 at 10:30 PM UTC
Blondes
Licking lips and tasting purple fingertips, we paused to sensually share from each. You,with your mulberries of juicy richness, and I with naive blueberries without guile.
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May 23, 2012
May 23, 2012 at 2:29 AM UTC
Miscommunication
I love you to pieces. All of you being my favorite. After a long day, I look forward to seeing you. Being around you. I constantly loose myself in your eyes. Every moment with you a blessing. Whether it's early in the morning Or late at night. I love every moment. My chocolate peanut butter craving starts and ends with you. I can't help but smile. Thankful that your not wrapped in tin foil. A moment of trust easily accessible. By far the greatest gift I could ever receive. I accept all of you. Delectable pieces poured into my hands. Sensually sharing hidden parts of ourselves. Every inch uncovered beneath coated chocolate. Creamy peanut butter. Soon melted away by tastes desire. It's practical to see why I have to call in sick. Spending all my time with you. Your taste still on my lips. Stomach still aching. My chocolate peanut butter craving. Thank you for being you
0
Aug 20, 2018
Aug 20, 2018 at 10:26 AM UTC
Reese's Pieces
I find myself lost in another world, Daydreaming about being there with you, What have you done to infiltrate my subconscious? Just how bad do you want this dream to come true? I dream of running my fingers through your long red hair, I take off your glasses and look into you soul through those seductive eyes you possess, Thinking of delicately kissing those sweet soft lips, With the tip of my tongue yours I begin to slowly caress. Our tongues passionately massaging one another, Eyes now closed just starting to feel the bliss, I then pull your body even closer, As I continue to kiss you I now grasp my hands upon your hips. I can hear you start to breathe even harder, You smell better than any flower blossoming in the spring, Your slight moan tells me to move down to kissing your neck, You soft skin tastes better than anything. Now pulling your **** body even closer, I feel your warm ******* pressed against my chest, I can feel you heart starting to beat faster, As one both our bodies now wish to possess. Now I begin to unbutton your blouse to expose your succulent curves, Kissing you now goes from your neck slowly down to your ******* Holding you in my palm while ******* your ******* Your body gets hot as it begs me to do what is next. I embrace you and lay you down slowly, We continue to kiss as we start to undress, You wrap your legs around me tightly, My body just can't wait for you to caress. I can feel how warm and moist you are already, As we lay naked you massage my hard drive, I go down to taste your sweet nectar, Delicately kissing you between your wet thighs. Your juices taste as sweet as honey, I savor them and **** them out of your soul, You whisper that you want me inside you, Your body takes over and you lose all control. My head goes in slowly as you let aloud a slight moan, Your moist lips wrapped tightly around me and pull me inside you tight, I then sensually bury myself deep within your warm wet body, We now are together as one lasting all throughout the night. © P.I.  12/29/2014
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Dec 29, 2014
Dec 29, 2014 at 6:40 AM UTC
Lost inside you
I find myself lost in another world, Daydreaming about being there with you, What have you done to infiltrate my subconscious? Just how bad do you want this dream to come true? I dream of running my fingers through your long red hair, I take off your glasses and look into you soul through those seductive eyes you possess, Thinking of delicately kissing those sweet soft lips, With the tip of my tongue yours I begin to slowly caress. Our tongues passionately massaging one another, Eyes now closed just starting to feel the bliss, I then pull your body even closer, As I continue to kiss you I now grasp my hands upon your hips. I can hear you start to breathe even harder, You smell better than any flower blossoming in the spring, Your slight moan tells me to move down to kissing your neck, You soft skin tastes better than anything. Now pulling your **** body even closer, I feel your warm ******* pressed against my chest, I can feel you heart starting to beat faster, As one both our bodies now wish to possess. Now I begin to unbutton your blouse to expose your succulent curves, Kissing you now goes from your neck slowly down to your ******* Holding you in my palm while ******* your ******* Your body gets hot as it begs me to do what is next. I embrace you and lay you down slowly, We continue to kiss as we start to undress, You wrap your legs around me tightly, My body just can't wait for you to caress. I can feel how warm and moist you are already, As we lay naked you massage my hard drive, I go down to taste your sweet nectar, Delicately kissing you between your wet thighs. Your juices taste as sweet as honey, I savor them and **** them out of your soul, You whisper that you want me inside you, Your body takes over and you lose all control. My head goes in slowly as you let aloud a slight moan, Your moist lips wrapped tightly around me and pull me inside you tight, I then sensually bury myself deep within your warm wet body, We now are together as one lasting all throughout the night. © P.I.  12/29/2014
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41
I sensually rub pickles on your torso. My lust for you is like black coffee. Really strong with an after effect of diarrhea I am jittery for you my dear Let me rub this yo-yo all over your ear. A thief broke into my house and saw a naked grandma so he left.
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May 3, 2014
May 3, 2014 at 1:27 AM UTC
Sensual Pickle Rubs
Revering the sight of your curves in the sheets Titillated are my thoughts to which has brought to exist Letting the water fall emanate strongly while having my fingers swim through simultaneously   Yours were tied down on the promises I’ve kept Blind folded as it pleasurably gets Trust is the bond that made us so sure To let each other have this type of love so soon Sensually it may come, oomph we may be are The sight of you naked is a form of an art Beautifully it truly is; ***** it may get Love is the truth, no matter how hot it could get
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May 15, 2021
May 15, 2021 at 7:09 AM UTC
Oomph
Let my lips trail across the soft, white surface of your skin And straight down the tender bridge that is your spine Allow my fingers to massage your body with pleasure Unlocking the secrets of your dirtiest, lustful fantasies The sweet, **** screams light my soul on fire All sources of speech vanquish into thin air My tongue drinks from the river of Hell's kitchen Intensifying your castle of steamy, hot dreams Gently I ****** each spot with caution For each spot is dangerously tender One slick touch of pressure and from her Will erupt a ****** volcano I whisper to her in devilishly, fancy tones She whispers back in sensually, sacred moans With no hesitation I move in for one final kiss Our tongues rub each other sparking our taste buds Birthing a marvelous ocean of ecstasy By Glenn McCrary © 2011 Glenn McCrary (All rights reserved)
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Nov 7, 2011
Nov 7, 2011 at 10:54 AM UTC
****** Volcano
Narcotized by her ****** nocturne Electric my desires elevated Her body a red velvet luxury Crippled our bodies fell elated Upon our skins moonlight peaked Quite a golden ****** to devour Profound dissolving within sin Passion sensually shaping the hour Time may be fickle, Refrained the night remains young Though I can taste the minutes Descendant from the sweltering sun In sync may our bodies move To human nature's mystic groove
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Jan 21, 2012
Jan 21, 2012 at 9:11 PM UTC
Red Velvet *******
Forget the onion and all its layers thats obvious You are undeserving for such a cliché So I invite a different perspective Think of a base, flour and egg kneaded together like I need you, so dense in identical morals Folded with mirrored ideology of future fortuity Dipped sensually with a sauce so thick, Thicker than blood or water, Blended as one to create a sea of red as deep as our hearts pumping vitality Sprinkled softly with the most palatable, mouth watering mozzarella Each placing full of utter affection, Long lost stares while you sit innocent to me feasting my eyes upon your moreish persona. The only quandry we must face is whose decision that day of toppings to showcase Who gets the chance to tease additional flavours, delicious tasters To open eyes to attributes unseen before, Hopes set high to electrify taste buds Wanting the other to crave more Ingredients brought together for a flavoursome pizza You are my hawaiian As i, Your meatfeast. Opposing trimmings Eachothers 1st choice One anothers perfection to quench their dying hunger
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Mar 2, 2019
Mar 2, 2019 at 12:05 PM UTC
Pizza perfectionism
each bird has its own branch and i am alone now in mid-february midnight desolation under a web of stars white as salt and just as plentiful waiting on the celestial cyclist to bring the dawn across my face and scorch the cool wet grass tonight the clouds are arranged like a chessboard a cosmic design in darkness and light and i am a crippled pawn meditating with with my pants off and my naked feet in the sand of a north florida crossroads trying to lose my own gravity and merge with the stars cloaked in maniac faith and american sweat i'm waiting to be found by a bush doctor with my head filled and floating like a nitrous balloon under a canopy of hi-frequency bats and the infinite disco ball hoping this mighty poem might expand time and fill space i am no longer a jail cell poet starving and pacing like a goldfish in an orange jumpsuit the miraculous sunbreak has touched my deepest cells hypnotized my life and caught the tears on the right side of my face i am a bee trembling in sunlight salute me i hope there is a mild breeze today to dance sensually with my drifter's spirit and swirl blond hair and pure cotton against the sky at the top of this abandoned railroad bridge covered in rust all the sudden i am singing radically about overcoming cosmic humiliation bruise-purple tongue unhitched and lilting long throat curled up toward the sun as the birds and deer stand dumbfounded in the clearing the sound resonates in my gut as my big white teeth slam together in this devout moment among my share of god's abundance i am only approximately human one with the smell of living trees dancing on the salad hillside big eyes birthed inside sunset colors soaked in warm honey with toes twitching above the imagined fire at my feet when the singing stops and the sun goes down i melt back into my own temporal lobe caressed by a butterfly finally able to sleep
0
Feb 23, 2015
Feb 23, 2015 at 11:08 AM UTC
salad hillside
each bird has its own branch and i am alone now in mid-february midnight desolation under a web of stars white as salt and just as plentiful waiting on the celestial cyclist to bring the dawn across my face and scorch the cool wet grass tonight the clouds are arranged like a chessboard a cosmic design in darkness and light and i am a crippled pawn meditating with with my pants off and my naked feet in the sand of a north florida crossroads trying to lose my own gravity and merge with the stars cloaked in maniac faith and american sweat i'm waiting to be found by a bush doctor with my head filled and floating like a nitrous balloon under a canopy of hi-frequency bats and the infinite disco ball hoping this mighty poem might expand time and fill space i am no longer a jail cell poet starving and pacing like a goldfish in an orange jumpsuit the miraculous sunbreak has touched my deepest cells hypnotized my life and caught the tears on the right side of my face i am a bee trembling in sunlight salute me i hope there is a mild breeze today to dance sensually with my drifter's spirit and swirl blond hair and pure cotton against the sky at the top of this abandoned railroad bridge covered in rust all the sudden i am singing radically about overcoming cosmic humiliation bruise-purple tongue unhitched and lilting long throat curled up toward the sun as the birds and deer stand dumbfounded in the clearing the sound resonates in my gut as my big white teeth slam together in this devout moment among my share of god's abundance i am only approximately human one with the smell of living trees dancing on the salad hillside big eyes birthed inside sunset colors soaked in warm honey with toes twitching above the imagined fire at my feet when the singing stops and the sun goes down i melt back into my own temporal lobe caressed by a butterfly finally able to sleep
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52
Her impression of love was nothing but... A bar less prison Sad! She had a hateful Perception ov love A dead fateful lie Cold as a sarcophagus... How wrong she was To think *** was love And love was *** My ex... Her mother would die for her But she had never Laid her down On a bed of pleasures of the flesH For true love Isn't sensually sentimental But unconditional. She was wrong yet so strong With legs wide open Weakened by desire She gave it away... Her perception of love was nothing but lust And trust which left her in the dust And she always thought love didn't last Cuz she was lost So she lost Something he needed on the honey moon!
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Aug 6, 2018
Aug 6, 2018 at 10:44 AM UTC
She Made Love The Wrong Time
My many chores in summer's heat, By this noon all complete. Sitting neath my shaded porch, A cooling, gentle breeze Whispers and envelops me. A welcome sensation, Reminiscent of your Loving hands, Sensually touching, And embracing me.
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Aug 24, 2014
Aug 24, 2014 at 3:01 PM UTC
Flash of Rememberance
Too much synchronicity... I feel you. Your touch, your taste, your kiss, your skin. Knocking me is the way to go, just put our lips together, and blow. Baby, just breathe on me. Blow on my soft flesh and kiss. Lubriciously, lusciously, lustfully. Breathe on my taste, my touch, my sin. We don't even need to be physical, tonight, my senses don't make sense at all. Our imaginations... Take it in, let it out... Baby, just breath on me. Seductively, sensually, sexually. We don't even need to touch, just breathe. Baby.... **** yeah. (Moans) Feel my sin as it's desire that I unleash. Magnitude, corresponding with your aching thought of impure lustful intention. Intention, feel me grasp onto your every nerve with my non-physical touch. Caress me, hold me, baby, don't even **** me, just breathe onto my neck, my shoulder, my breast, my stomach, my ***** my thigh, my legs, my *** Can you feel it? As I mind **** you, it's that tingling sensation I release. Aaaaaaah, baby, stop, and just breathe.
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May 16, 2019
May 16, 2019 at 7:26 AM UTC
Breathe on me
Kiss me Where The lipstick ain't And deeply And sensually Make my back Watch into a bridge Do it any where Just do it
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Sep 30, 2020
Sep 30, 2020 at 3:00 PM UTC
Lips
The Smell of Honey,  Coffee and Apples and Messes of Words, but No Love Poetry <^> *my poetry suffers from a literately literacy, the adjectivally of imagery wears away with time and age eroding the imagination, when one’s days are numbered, being serious is an natural unpleasant hazardous haze, never in doubt The morning meal of cooked oatmeal, steel cut, laced with wildflower honey, slices of honey crisp apples and Hawaiian coffee brewed,   singes the Tropical Storm Ophelia thrumming humidity that overhangs the ugly grays of NYC sky-paths, one tickles me awake with contradictory impulses: sweet and sour, a robust stimulative, competing with the smothering of grayling clouded weather weariness of 48 hours of rainy continuity, a spirit suffocate you see! give you myself, my environment, in précis, unimaginative exactly as it occurs to me, sensually, yes, but cannot shake my disappointment that no, can’t combine visionary notions that spin your swivel chair around, powered by your exclamations of ooh, ahh, and little stabs of weeee punctuating our shared atmosphere and bring forth only love poetry but no mas, the love poetry doesn’t comes to the fore, the forehead stuffed with words best listed as basic, observable, factual, Miley Cyrus, accuses me of being jaded, but not with accuracy, more straight jacketed, way past that half-way point of no return, turning back is not a listed menu option love poetry demands, requires and requests envisioning, precursor to dreaming, but I am choking on matters-of-fact, questions of survivability, that do not shed love poetry words, I love exclaiming to any and all within hailing distance, my loving firmament, but the damp atmosphere swallows my hopes and sounds, even though still can smell the lingering nearness odor of honey and apple, yet, other hints of memory beg to differ, and I sadly and easy confess,* this is not a lovely poem… - * -
0
Sep 23, 2023
Sep 23, 2023 at 12:44 PM UTC
The Smell of Honey, Coffee and Apples and Messes of Words, but No Love Poetry
The Smell of Honey,  Coffee and Apples and Messes of Words, but No Love Poetry <^> *my poetry suffers from a literately literacy, the adjectivally of imagery wears away with time and age eroding the imagination, when one’s days are numbered, being serious is an natural unpleasant hazardous haze, never in doubt The morning meal of cooked oatmeal, steel cut, laced with wildflower honey, slices of honey crisp apples and Hawaiian coffee brewed,   singes the Tropical Storm Ophelia thrumming humidity that overhangs the ugly grays of NYC sky-paths, one tickles me awake with contradictory impulses: sweet and sour, a robust stimulative, competing with the smothering of grayling clouded weather weariness of 48 hours of rainy continuity, a spirit suffocate you see! give you myself, my environment, in précis, unimaginative exactly as it occurs to me, sensually, yes, but cannot shake my disappointment that no, can’t combine visionary notions that spin your swivel chair around, powered by your exclamations of ooh, ahh, and little stabs of weeee punctuating our shared atmosphere and bring forth only love poetry but no mas, the love poetry doesn’t comes to the fore, the forehead stuffed with words best listed as basic, observable, factual, Miley Cyrus, accuses me of being jaded, but not with accuracy, more straight jacketed, way past that half-way point of no return, turning back is not a listed menu option love poetry demands, requires and requests envisioning, precursor to dreaming, but I am choking on matters-of-fact, questions of survivability, that do not shed love poetry words, I love exclaiming to any and all within hailing distance, my loving firmament, but the damp atmosphere swallows my hopes and sounds, even though still can smell the lingering nearness odor of honey and apple, yet, other hints of memory beg to differ, and I sadly and easy confess,* this is not a lovely poem… - * -
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55
Steel vultures dancing back and forth, licking each others talons, snip sensually the stubborn coils of glassy illusionist thoughts that have threaded, spilling from the helm.
0
Sep 12, 2010
Sep 12, 2010 at 1:42 PM UTC
Cut
Usually, I let words come to me, tonight; however, I am going to formulate something. I am tired of whining about love - the lack of it, really; in my life. Tonight, I'll whine about, countlessly, contemplating. Countlessly desiring; countlessly yearning; For - your physical touch. My placement of my hands on yours. My placement of my hands on your body. My placement of my lips on yours. My placement of my lips on every crevice of your body. Tonight; I whine about yearning to touch you. I whine about your lips, softly - sensually; rubbing on my face, lowering - Mine, rubbing on your forehead - as you lower; down - my body. Tonight; I whine about my lips, yearning - the taste of your body. Your skin rubbing against my tongue; Your skin, satisfying my taste buds. Tonight; I whine about the love my body has for yours. The love in need of no words; the love only touch understands. Tonight; My body wants yours. I hope you are shivering, in hope - that our bodies will quench the thirst causing tension between us.
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Sep 15, 2015
Sep 15, 2015 at 6:38 PM UTC
Tonight; My body, your body.