| Ode to this Body.
With its curves, Rolls, and bumps- It is a wondrous Thing. Smooth skin, Bark brown hair, and Pine green eyes hidden by Soft lashes. Two breasts, round Like orange melons. Full ass�d Hips to sway back and forth. Hairy-hair-less, mound of flesh; Lips that hide and reveal- You can just call it by one of Its many glorious names; I�ll just Call it my vagina. Thick mountains of thigh spread Out like two St. Helens to meet Delicately to butt-kicken� boots. My little hands, barely big enough to Cup breasts, strokes its curvilinear Form. This is my body, This is Me. I have rolls around, Rotund-solidly sound. If I did not love me, Who could? You? He? In a world of confusion, I go forth, I realize, I am Venus of Wollendorf. |
| You are my Love
You are the peace that wraps around my heart When I need it the most You are the star that guides me When I am lost You are the strength that holds me up When I am at my weakest You are the sound advice given When I am confused You are the soul that touches me When I am most depressed You are the heartbeat inside my chest When I am feeling hollow You are the shoulder I cry on When everything has fallen apart You are all the good things in life When I all I see is darkness You are my love Even when I don�t think I�m worth it |
| A Clusterfuck of a Life.
Susie the mouse Was keen on sushi. But she was a proletarian And couldn�t afford such expenses She found, once, the pinion Of a skylark; she put it behind glass. Susie works for the Benjamin�s, But life just crawls past her. Her once precious scabbard Evolved into a train station While she struggles to sell For food at night. Slow brown decay Eats Susie�s dreams away As she foots along the pavement. This is the life, golden opportunities Where she craves luxuries Like sushi and steak. |
| Whocker jawed Society.
He was Homer Simpson Smart- A real Prince of Bumble-Fuck Egypt; Gone to the City. Life was always kosher- �Cept when it wasn�t. She was an Aviation Blond Who Trim-Spa�d her way To the top-bottom-didn�t matter- She could MacGyver any situation. They met the night he Chose not to kill a kitten & Go out. A real emo-packed club, A moment, or five, in a stall- Too much alcamahol, but it Was all good, �till some Too white trashed twat Began to complain. Then he & she bounced to his crib- A raunchilicious event, neither Would regret, it was all shagadelic for him; She got to be Master of his Universe� for a night. |
| Sanctity
When asleep, you're not supposed to Notice someone is there, but you do. That warm body almost on top, Pushing you toward the wall. An arm flung over bare breasts- a leg entwined, his breathing In your ear-along the curve Of neck. Heartboxes rise and fall. Pelvis to bum; an arm underneath your arms, Draped around to hold. Skin still sensitive after moments of Connection; of kisses, of touches, Of forward and retreat.Two rhythms- his chest, your chest-Back to breast, breast to breast. Your thighs wrapped around His waist, his hands next to your hips; Ahhs and haha hijinks As two lovers collide into one another-sweaty & slick- Smiling down to you with one last sigh. He bends over- To whisper in an ear-of Love and joy-rolls to the left, Pulls you closer, nibbles your lobe. Now, two bodies knotted. Breathing the same air as you sleep, When you're not supposed to know He is there-but you do. |