Poetry for Lovers

 
The hallways are long and dark,
pocketed with misshapen doorways,
but a woman knows the face
of the man she loves.  As a sailor
knows the open sea encompasses
an outermost Bark; but the song has wind
the Lark knew nothing of,

A work of intuition and sentient morning ink;
The artillery of hurried logic, deploying charge,
Spoke from a great and loving heart
A russet auburn falls free with torrents of black water
Transporting the dorsal raphe nucleus into honesty
As the forests walls reverb with gallops;

a Fisher harmonic falls embracing the aromatic delight,
and so delivers magnificence.



The creaminess of my mate        
is good.  It has a very special flavor        
        
The texture of his scent        
        
He words a teasing whisper toward my ear        
        
Yes I want it,        
        
And it's teasing to me        
through an inviting inward that breathes,        
and the soothing liquid knows what to do        
in the forests of a vices wetness-bare  
  
Running my hands down his bare body above me  
  
Pulling him down onto me more; please me        
        
And a thought of the drenched piercing is overwhelming      
        
My whisperings of breaths on his lips        
        
Begging please is pleasing to him        
        
Easing it into me, and then out again        
        
Clutching my inhibitions and desires        
        
Setting free the longing ― moaning                        
                                    
And the wetness of my cunt is inviting      
        
The beating        
        
It’s so good.  It has a very special flavor        
        
Like tasting the honey wine that runs free        
        
Cresting on my slit ― rubbing      
        
Titling and pressing - throbbing with the tingles of my body        
        
Slowly, parting my pussy open, slowly        
        
His cock is so wide        
        
Rubbing inside a little, and it's wetting        
        
Integral divinity is easing into me      
        
The begging is licking please; his godhead        
        
Squeezing into me, slowly; squeezing the juice        
        
A throbbing thickheaded heat is moving in me,        
        
Panting and whisperings of lips touching closely        
        
The hood slipping slowly in and out; finally      
        
Through the inviting inward breathes releasing      
        
Wanting, and the love pants ― breathing        
        
Viewing the eyes as a roaring fire        
that lay center to the integral divine;        
common flames caress the face in collective thought        
inviting thrusts of the rock hardness,        
        
And the soothing succulent knows
what to do...and so he fucks me.