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Bruno

          he trims a Cuban cigar and places it in his anti-authoritarian orifice:

Foreshadowing the mysteries of life brings the succulent cauldrons of mystical salaciousness to a boiling ardor.  I’ll entice the myriad realms of your enchantress and wring the moisture out of your femininity.  I’ve got a cat of nine tails in my hands- I dare you to stroke me, you sassy *****,  just so you may know my obeisant oblations orchestrations.  No other woman moves me like the feral ***** you employ.  


     Caspian

  Choreographed katas supplement his beast.
He’s adamant and masculine, and plucks the strings of his guitar in anticipation of your ****** harmonies.  Pounce firmly on his erotica erectile like the black panther of his lust’s rebellion.  Caress the protuberance of his virility- mount his exsertion- hair on hair- wanton on wayward- peal him slowly with your agile ictus- he’s ambrosia and honey- extort the fecundity out of him and give it back like a fertile libation.


Roland

He’s like a Mayan calendar.  Excruciatingly exacerbating, imperturbably tenacious.  He’ll draw the sport out of you and make you bounce like a cowgirl on a bronco.  Only to buck you off and leave you in the dust like a flaccid martyr on the ground he tramples.  You’ll reminisce his wily gate where ever you tread, and ****** yourself at the thought of his machismo machinations as you rode his determinism.  


Sol

His exotic lightning vaunts in the celestial canopy.  The blood of new world wizardry, he seduces from the apex axis of his citadel pinnacle.  His warrior heights ooze with the psychic clarity of zoomorphic demagoguery’s rebellion and make the knight groan with exigency.  The weight of his words, the upward convection of  their accessional draws sweat and *** from your extant.  He can sense your arousal from miles away and seduces your mind like a torrential deluge.


Richthofen

He is manumission, no more the faded vision of  body incarnates ghosts.  He writes of the enrapturing mesmeric-ness of its inebriation to tantalize his wanton decadent blatancy’s flagrant.  Impetus intrigue and intuitional verve become sensual currency.  He’s the lounging lion, the puissant God, the edifice ******* of pornographic wit.  The incongruous incognito with no moniker.  Seduced by your poet he would romance the *** out of you and leave you enraptured with your own anonymity at the edge of the new world freeway.
Actually I wrote this piece in response to Cara de Luna's Lete des Femmes But she asked me not to post my copy before she quit this site.  Too bad because my response is much more understandable and doesn't seem so chauvinistically banal given her rant.
 Sep 2017
K Balachandran
name she coyly said,
lost between pout and cleavage.
need a second chance.
 Aug 2017
K Balachandran
middle parted hair,
eyes go down to her naval
arrested at cleavage
 Jun 2017
K Balachandran
Away from the nicely lit place,
where guests chatted and giggled,
we sat face to face, in the after glow
of our smoldering new found love,
for quite a while,wondering within us,
how could emotional fireworks blow up
amidst prolonged pandemonium,like this?
Words to us, seemed quite out of place
I just gazed and gazed in to her eyes
she blushed,like a first time kisser.
A faint beam from a distance, made her
emotionally charged  face look all  aflame.
Her nostrils pretty attractive,perfect rings
looked flared,like an animal's,I noticed
that catches a scent, awaited for long;
seemed like she had an urgent need to express.
I had a guess, but her words were distracting,
"I love your fingers"she lisped, my index finger
on the right hand she started to pet,
"It's so enticing"she spoke as if
she substitutes a thing for one different.
as the compulsion was such.
Time stood still, in the middle,but that wasn't a hitch!
I remembered she had to leave, shortly
but the tide of our passions was flooding still,
so we created darkness at will around us.
 May 2017
SøułSurvivør
Out of an arid ocean you came.
Draped in kelp and pearls.
Lush lips and Picean hips
You've been a witness to
The liquid dreams of Neptune,
The lofty spires of Atlantis,
The beaded shores of
Islands unknown,
The phosphoric teeth of
Creatures never seen.
The languid swirling
Of seahorses tantalizing
The mating of tendrils...

Your rivals recline on the
Ravaged rocks... patiently
Waiting for the frigate or
Schooner, or if lucky a
***** Man-o-War. Silent
Smiles perch on their lips...
They look to the broken
Boards and driftwood around
Their rocky abodes. The
Skeletons have sunk into
The sea...

Ahoy! A tall ship, by Poseidon!
They lift their seductive voices
To draw the sailors to the
Rocks & reefs... to no avail!

The mermaids, like dolphins,
Cavortingly draw them with
Their antics to safe harbor!

Jewels adorn their swirling
Hair, and gems their tails.
Their pear-shaped *******
Modestly covered with
Glowing seaweed & shells...

While the sirens sit naked
On the rocks.


SøułSurvivør
(C) 5/27/2017
 Jan 2017
wordvango
can you believe the sand is so warm
so gritty beneath our toes
and
holds us up?
It's like concrete with
feeling, so far away from
the suburbs type
walkways streets paved everything,
It gives a little
shifts when your weight
goes from foot to foot,
striding , leaves a trace
unseen walking down
same home after home suburbs
streets the same subdivided parts of
living, plots lain out like
cemetaries do,
only missing the headstones,
facing east.
I get hot walking but
enjoy the beach.
 Dec 2016
Allen Robinson
The day of love
is at hand as I
await your
pending arrival
I arm myself with
one dozen of the
finest red
long stem roses
Selecting one to
purge the bulb of
all peddles
I line the pathway
with red silky markers
leading you
towards the bedroom
Peddles of a Rose
placed strategically
to peak curiosity
Intrigued you are
and the anticipation
of what is to follow
empowers my plan
I visually undress you
as you take notice of
my eyes loving you
Without a touch or
verbal command
to slowly undress
yourself with desire
in your eyes
Your nakedness
fully engaged
you spread your
frame across the bed
and the oil massage
ensues with
silky red peddles
gently gliding upon
your glistening body
You moan in
sheer pleasure
which continues
until need me to be
the man you require.
 Dec 2016
Lora Lee
arching my back
the sparks fly
like shaved metal
off of my sternum
as something
like happiness
flecks through
in metal firebuds
that screech coming
over me as a
wave washes
through my
molecular structure,
inside the libations
held up to the
small goddesses
running through
the rush of
the chainsaw shrieks
of bloodstream
now a fomenting river
of tiny waves
cresting made up
of my tears
shed all through
the mineral-encrusted
night
Now those tiny deities
with singing plumpness
of breast and thigh
indigo radiating
from their third eye
are dancing
inside my being
as I strive to catch
the shadows that
only just surrounded
me in that last hour
of plague
of chasm-patched torment
tears insulating me
until I could not see
for the steam
just on the edge
of inability to
contain my
filtered out
pre-injected rage
Here I now sit
a few inches above
the grasslands
lotus in each palm
pumped
with manifestation
in my very fingers
                       of life
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k58LRJ3tIdg
 Jul 2016
Sjr1000
Tequila
Tears
And art
Passion flowers
ignite
Fierce surrender
Holding on tight
Taking hold of the darkening night
Turning Twisting
On a friend's vacant bed
Igniting
Finding
Kalidiscope colors
Exploding into sound

Peaceful sleep
Entangled in arms sweet embrace

Memorable nights
in life
in memory
are played out
more than twice

Revisited
from time to time
through out one's life.
 Jun 2016
david mungoshi
she divested herself
of her encumbrances
invisible sparks in rayon and silk
enlivened the room
the night alive with fireflies and mystery
a boon to her loveliness
a beauty to taunt the rising moon this night
through the slight parting in the blinds
he saw the shimmering silvery strands of moonlight
even as his libido lay in shreds before her
a lady from the imagination
shrouded in fatal allure
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