poetry = nonsense
nonsense = meaninglessness
meaninglessness = void
void = nothingness
nothingness = spirit

I have a longing to seduce thee, sweet child with sugary whispers, promises of days to come and with caresses and nibbles explore thy vulnerabilities ruffle the butterflies in the stomach arouse thy longing, thirst for bliss and with fingers skilled play the strings of temptation, of expectation, of appetites obscure and then, when ready shall I mount thee, my goddess thrusting the long shaft of my affections deep into the heart of thy womanhood manhandle thee rough and imperiously until ye shiver uncontrollably and in hushed tones and moans beg thy supplications but merciless shall I be exploiting thy flesh and exigent ye climb to higher highs until, exhausted I may deliver thee into the arms of Morpheus with a sweet kiss on thy forehead [24-XI-21]
Copyright © 2011 Erick Calder
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