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Kira Jan 2014
Slowly he moved,
casting his baritone spells
Planned were his words
and a planned novelty that,
into wisps
made her melt

His touch,
soft as her,
spewed white sparks
Crossed a few lines,
carved some more
And unveiled in whispers,
plans for so much more

Heartbeats gained,
rushing blood around
Quickly were
garments lost
and the last one adorned
Into each other they sank,
like night into moist dawn

Beads of sweat,
glittered as trophies
on his incognito face
As waves of joyous pain,
rippled back and forth,
over her dimly red face

Her face,
his
Her face,
his
Her face
and then his
Over and over,
over and over
With a few gasping pauses,
shifting around
and faces flash again

Her face,
his
Her face,
his

Over and over

Till I break down,
gasping for breath
Waking up,
from this eventful death

Cursed are those,
who witness venereous passion
Beneath the starry heavens
and yet from above
But from their beloved's eyes -
through her hands,
through her curled toes,
through the force above -

the one she calls,
her current preferred love
wordvango Feb 2016
Tender as the day too young then gone
too young to grasp and seize it rightfully strong
dumbstruck youth to sigh anon
blown by in a season young then lost
the venereous cries
of love now  gone.

— The End —