Sunday, March 25, 2007
She
she from surge beneath
thick curves through thighs embrace
soft sand drop fruit to count
full scarlet touching time
song brief hold here from flight
face gods her belly ripe
push dark from deep delight
drink slow swoon silky night
weave hand to ailing heart
shed fast mend mind from sin
sun burst bright flower might
cast prayer free wide within
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Ms Anthrope
I don't need to know her name I know she is being crushed She dreams of my bosom where eagles are in love She thinks of the heron becaus...
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from this empty space I rip my heart and hold it tight bright open on the slate of love it is cold here no comfort hands or words of ...