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Love Making


Submitted:Jan 14, 2008    Reads: 149    Comments: 5    Likes: 4   


It is not warm rain

that wets her parting petals

My sable touch

paints her frond moist

The taste of her arousal

only leaves me hungry

My stomach of lust

feasts on the fuel of her beauty

Her notes of ecstasy

dot the sex heavy air

Waves of crescendo

crash the rocks of orgasm



Then quiet



Only two over worked hearts

that thump to the rhythm of love



Invade silence





4

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