Love.
The Sexual Kind.
Morning
glory,
Yes
this is a real story.
I
smell your scent,
Warm,
lazy and copulent.
From
a night of wild,
Crazy
passion.
A
dance, a play,
We
got our end,
Away
in the fury of,
Fuzzy
feeling and,
Release
of gold.
Do
you still,
Ring,
Sing,
Feel
the potion,
Cradle
you,
As
I release,
Within,
My
lasting token of desire?
Sweaty
and slick,
My
pulse is quick,
You
suck my,
Ardour
into life,
And
know,
Below,
The
fires glow,
A
weeping show,
Your
golden flow.
Beneath
you,
I
ride true,
Deep
within,
You
and then,
When
I buck,
You
feel my craving,
For
you reach the peak,
Nipples
I tweak,
Slap
hand on cheek,
Skin
palpitating and sleek,
Your
body flops,
Becoming
weak,
So
Chic......
An Original poem by Guilhem Du Mas.
