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Bare Bones

Let me taste your cyanide
Intimate garden between your thighs
So wet from rain of aniticipation
So wet as you descend from the sky

And I glaze my tongue
In your viscosity
Your love and lust
Your drive to rain

Grasping for you
Wanting for you
You stifle the sentences
Streaming from my mouth

And siphon the words
Into nothing but ecstacy
For your garden
And what lies there

What intimate
Flagrant things
You silence me with
Making me mute for you

Let me open my mouth
And have your reign
Rain down onto me
Like a wayward hurricane

As your garden consumes me
Your eden becomes my breath
Between gasps of poetry
And gentle motions

I want your world
To come with my words
Spoken softly
As your wetness
Enters my mouth

Let me be the world
Where your constellations
Tell stories of heroes
And legends

And your clouds cover
My conscious so that
I move and live and connect
With you

Let the taste of the eden feast
Never leave my vocabulary
As you kneel unto me
And you come cyanide

Kill what was before
And from your thighs
My conscious emerges
So I may make love

To the sky

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Art House Tasteful

I’d love to have you
Strip down
And take photos of you

Posing and exposed
Unclothed bit by bit

In black and white
Lit up by lights
On a stage to be free
Ensnared intimately

Dancing and moving
By yourself so grooving
Smiling for the camera
Every bit so bright

Tasteful
It only tastes less
When you’re not here
Beckoning wonder

Let’s have some gel filters
Pop your shadows
Fade your peaks
And tickle you pink

I want to frame you
Make art of you
Show the world you’re sexy
Show ’em your heart

Waxing moon
Pale screscent thighs
Making up in lingerie
Inviting with your risque eyes

Let the flash catch your brash
Shake your unreal ass

Take it off
But by bit
Let the lights
Shoot through like glass

Frozen in a photo
Snap shot like a photon

I want to see you like
No one else can
Make an image
More than words and

Capture more than
Imagination

Have a gallery of fantasy
A thousand words per photo
Of you unclothed and proud
Smiling and showing off

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Lunarium In Return

Waking up next
To a beautiful face
She’s naked
Covered by blankets
And she’s
Smiling at me

Often wish it wouldn’t change
Rolling out of bed
Having coffee
In the kitchen

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Spa

Spa

I hear it’s relaxing
Getting naked
And having a stranger
Massage you

And getting caked in mud
Or green exfoliants
While calm music
Quietly plays

But I wouldn’t know
I’ve only heard of the people
Who shed society for a moment
And walk nude in hallways

And it’s okay to them
While they’re there
But they still have to
Put on clothes to leave

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Exposure

Exposure

“Nothing.
I don’t know.
Sure.
Go ahead.”

These are some
of the things
you’ve said.
Cutie pie.

Can’t make up
your mind.
But it’s fine
that you’re shy.

You’re timid,
and guarded,
and so strong.
Downright enviable

how protected by
yourself you are.
How overwhelmed
I am to know

that your guard
goes down for me.
Every neutral noise
and default expression

speaks straight
of your wonder.
A mystery carefully
warded, that is you

and yourself you
hide from view.
But again, making
me fluttery

with your exposure.
Mousy until displayed
to show off your
unbashful splendor.

What is protected
but your cornucopia
of unparalleled
beauty?