We paint poetry
with pussy and penis
wet acrylics of lust
on a canvas of this bed
Release me.....
spread me eagle across this place
until i break and shatter into fragments
Release me...
We paint poetry
with tongues and fingers
dipped into the pool of drowning
of confusion
that blurs into rainbows and nirvana
We paint poetry
with lies and forgiveness
with uncompromising lust and madness
You won't let me go
And I wont let you own me
But I never move an inch.
We paint poetry
with bubbles and bath water
you drink me in..inhale me in one fail gulp
panties in your teeth.
catch my pubic hair
and tug and I scream
Release me..
until my torment becomes your anguish
until my orgasms turn into gasoline-laced screams
you set me on fire...
but release me
We paint poetry
Fragmented
Like Frieda and Diego
Beautifully tragic together
and senseless apart
volatile beauty broken by moments of time
You were mine..and I yours
We paint poetry
like abstract realism and impressionist cubism
some made up movements
because that is who we are
made up pixels of light
Long gone...
Our movement is finished
but you are still my muse
You torture my space
void filled by desire and
exercises in futility
Why won't you release me?
with pussy and penis
wet acrylics of lust
on a canvas of this bed
Release me.....
spread me eagle across this place
until i break and shatter into fragments
Release me...
We paint poetry
with tongues and fingers
dipped into the pool of drowning
of confusion
that blurs into rainbows and nirvana
We paint poetry
with lies and forgiveness
with uncompromising lust and madness
You won't let me go
And I wont let you own me
But I never move an inch.
We paint poetry
with bubbles and bath water
you drink me in..inhale me in one fail gulp
panties in your teeth.
catch my pubic hair
and tug and I scream
Release me..
until my torment becomes your anguish
until my orgasms turn into gasoline-laced screams
you set me on fire...
but release me
We paint poetry
Fragmented
Like Frieda and Diego
Beautifully tragic together
and senseless apart
volatile beauty broken by moments of time
You were mine..and I yours
We paint poetry
like abstract realism and impressionist cubism
some made up movements
because that is who we are
made up pixels of light
Long gone...
Our movement is finished
but you are still my muse
You torture my space
void filled by desire and
exercises in futility
Why won't you release me?
Wow! That was intense and different. I liked it.
ReplyDeleteYeah..much more abstract than I normally write..
DeletePS: i am looking for "movies" to review per heavy demand. LOL