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zebra Dec 2020
ooow oooow ooooow
dont sto sto sto stop
faster
slower
a little to the right
a little to the left
ooow not the ***
oooow nooooo

mmmmm oooo okay
oooooow baby
bu bu bu butter da bottom

mommy  
lo lo lo lo  loves you
and
dont tell
da daa da daa da
daddeeeeeeooooooo....
oooow ooow
My pathology professor told us:
“Five minutes with Venus… may require…..
….. a lifetime with Mercury.!!” 🙂
zebra Dec 2020
he watched her excitedly
eat **** shaped food
especially eclairs
as she languidly tongued
the white buttercream
from the sides of her mouth

thinking of her
his masturbations
powered the lights
of the Catskills

it wasn't just his profession
it was his obsession

just another horney
borsht belt gynecologist
https://www.bing.com/videos/search?q=bordchtbelt+humor&docid=608009001296593341&mid=97D5DA384A98BD24BFED97D5DA384A98BD24BFED&view=detail&FORM=VIRE
zebra Dec 2020
on the day you choose death
we should be married
i want wedding bells
you dressed in a beautiful black dress
black hi gloss nail polish
pitch black licorice lips
to shade red tongue saliva
and teeth to bite me with
little pretty razor slits on pursed lips
a blood painting
the color rouge to excite
your mascaraed eyelids
thick and wet
like rain from joyous crying

and then i want to take us far away
in a large black hearse
re-pleat with mahogany casket
dragging white skulls behind us
jockeying on an old gravel road
devil may care sirens howling
like the winds of nether worlds
where demons **** each other sublime
rich with the stench of ***
me kissing bare feet wiggle toes
your arched legs out the the window
for spring breezes kiss

written
emblazoned in white
"just married, so in love and gratefully dead by morning"

then to embrace and make love
to brush lips tender and bleed
with beautiful pearl handled silver cutlery
a crimson circus of ****** torments and laughter

she lavished me
with pink estuaries wet
between grimaced contortions
and tender licks brutal
mad for undoing

she spoon fed me her blood
like luke beet broth
a little at a time
a kind beautiful brides
late summer soup
being like a mother

i licked it off her fingers
tender thighs like creamy red velvet cake
and buttery ******* silken
every stitch and inch
glistening copulations pulsating
her heart breaking for obliteration
like a beggar
her ******* a weeping delta
crowned princess Thanatos in nylons
with grace beyond measure
she spread wide for the graves caress

we poured our love into each others veins
like flasks of claret
fondling smiling wounds
eager for tongues caress
she supplicates
with slow bleeding belly and wrists
gauzed ankles
with ******* gates tender
and determined ligature

make me yours forever
she entreats
until happily vanquished
a clanking skeleton
yet still a whisper of ***** undulating drool
to pleasure you oh **** of mine

my tongue ravenous
in her hollow breathless black cadaverous mouth cooing
whispering melodically
toe tapping
Marilyn Manson songs
calling her in echoes naked mouth
are you dead my sweet ?
not yet she said
keep trying
smush me harder now
no regrets
with silky stockings or black strap
until i stop fussing
let me gift you
with labyrinths sunken
my seeds squandered in dark puddles
ruin me

her arms wrapped around
stiffened
like papier-mâché
even dead she wont let go
how sweet

i run wires over indifferent ankles and arms
girding reckless torso
tethered to iron doors shut
feet over head
to pull her apart
wide
and slide my bubble of poison
in a hundred more times
as i ravished her
she all surrender
fragrant
a ghastly confection
vaulted

i hear her call
a brooding specter
am i enough for you
please darling
take all
and more
i am a ***** for death and love
a poetic fiction
with true longing
alive always
veiled
in the cave of the soul
zebra Dec 2020
he fills her dream

she contemplates
diminishment
her shipless ocean

virtues shadow
leans on exultations
in a crotchless bikini

******* ascend
like candied fruit
forming a balcony
of opals and rubies

the vision:

cupping curves
waves of grace
and Andromeda
crashes the Milky Way

the voice:

a lattice of wetted
whispers smooth
and heated

a smidge of desire
like a curtain of flesh
for belly dance hips
twines a goblins mouth

and ****** feet
trip the lights
**** blotted
in bedlams empire
shake dancing stilettos
in a savage hula
zebra Nov 2020
my poems are not tyrants

to some  
not even poems
or worse yet offensive
scandalous bullies
behemoths of some
savage oversexed mind

mental animated  
stained **** worn
dingy wall paper
printed multiples
of ***** ***
and blue eyed
Caribbean  pools

beyond hearts mastery
hullabaloo crime scenes
like night jungles
of tooth and claw
in corridors of neuron ghosts
 and livid pornographic hieroglyphs
fed by the dreaded
excesses of testosterone
towards some ruined
blood spotted
hanky panky *******
just to remind me of you
and how it hurt just so
and how you loved me for it

whoever you are

no
no sanitized spiel
about fragrant gardens
redwoods
azure blues
the lassitude of angels
and the secret seas keep

my poems
depravities

a slave's heart 
vaulted thighs
eating a raw mouth
in a cathedral of tongues
and wrapping myself
in your nut brown hair
:)
  Nov 2020 zebra
Samantha Cunha
Any road could take you there
you and I,
the 405,
the sunshine of our rain
the storm of our own disaster
the never ending paths
the electric blue skies
the prophetic visions
you and I,
the 405
the clouds are high
Any road could take you there
you and I,
take the ride
zebra Nov 2020
Q.309 is the fire of existence pushing to action transforming the ideological Materia in revolutionary spirit.

SHE IS GODS **** AND MOUTH

Q.309 is the confirmation of the enlightening action above the primordial waters found in the structure and in the function of the eye.

BEYOND THE EGO BURNS INEFFABEL APHRODESIA

Q.309 is every union originating from dissimilar things with adulterous spirit.
Our anamnesis nullifies the liturgical and ritual tradition; the attitude in us pushing to the repetition of the ritualistic gesture intended as an offer and as a proof of the memory is amplified by the life itself.

CHAOS AS RITUAL

Q.309 is the radical conflict with the existing world and a new identity to be achieved through a process of identification with the will of the abyss that contains all: through this conflict you become a concupiscent being.

I PUSH HER **** THROUGH HER THROAT

Q.309 is the cult of the slough whose common thread is constituted by the constant sexualization of the human world and of the divine sphere, bringing them closer till the overlap.

A RESIPROCITY OF ******* IN MUTUAL EXCHANGE

Q.309 is the energetic foundation and dynamism typical of the devolutive systems.

HEAD ABOVE THE HEAVENS FEET BELOW THE HELLS

We turn our gaze to the underlying face of the Materia and we consolidate our desire in her; the concupiscence is our vis generandi through which our gnostic process of emanation is activated.

I AM EVERYWHERE WITHIN  HER


The Flesh of God melts with the one who creates him.



[From MEQOM YAD/Assur #1]
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