Into the Phonebooth

Where does your heart hide?
Where does it dwell?
Locked away, burning hot
In a self made hell?
In a self-fashioned cell
Where normal sadness pales
In comparison to the light
That you once felt?
Where is it?
Does it live with another?
Wrapped in stained, torn sheets
Held tight by your lover?
Is it beating?
Or it it as stil as a breath
Suspended in animation,flowing closer to death?

Why do I ask, you wonder?
Do I desire your love? Or to be the lucky fellow that
You keep thinking of?
Or do I want to hurt you?
Make your insides ache
From the place that I feel, when you give
And I take? No!
Keep your love,
Or give it away.
But make a choice.
Be happy or still.
Find joy, or reveal
Your real reasons for standing apart.
You are one of intrigue....

Your heart is fine art.
 
You make me wanna tear down your high horse.
So proud and full of vanity
That my low level obscenity
Is pulling you to ruin.
Wanna dwell on my level?
Find heaven in my hell
And feel your pussy start to swell
As my words ring off your bells?
Heaving chests and fantasies
That refuse to rest
As you do your best to resist
The constant itch that I scratch.
My attack is attaching me as close as the sound
Coming from deep inside your soul
As I'm pounding around.
You want my sex, but you can't take my mind.
I won't make you mine until you find the time
To explore.
My stores house the nourishment you need..
And much more.
But if I whore myself for you,
Then what profit would I gain?
Simply forcing your orgasm
And hearing you whisper my name?
Is this just a game?
Maybe I should let you win...
Because I'll ever crown you
I'll champion the end.
 
My appetite for you is gaining ground.
I cannot resist the urge
To spin you round
And pin you down.
Or maybe against the wall
And make you wail
And thrash against
My advances
As I taste you top to bottom
Making you rotten
From my need.
I must feed. The urge is monstrous.
Skin begging to be touched
Heated, burning so much.
Rain coming in droves
Flooding sheets and eager lips
Drench me and I happily
Will remain in ecstasy.
 
I am words and stanzas.
Collections of feelings, desires
And the type of naughty wickedness
That people could only gasp at
If they knew,
But you read me like a collection of classics.
Fingers turning my pages
To see what happens next.
Volumes upon volumes of salacious
Deeds
Human needs and lust for greed.
You finger my pages.
You gaze with great interest.
You analyze my philosophies
And decide whether to continue
Or toss the series away.
Make me a WalMart special.
Or find me a library,
A shelf in your study.
Where visits are frequent
And conversational communion
Comes as gently as pleasure upon your lips
And toys between your thighs.

I am words....
Read me.
And understand.
 
Thank you!

💄Your lips are teasing
Corner smirks and light giggles
Supple, pulsing, living delights
Welcoming and heated words
Coy designs and pointed truths.
Your lips are a weapon. 💋

Wow! A wonderful surprise to see some more from you! I love the tone and feel of your latest posting. And can appreciate your talent. Thank you for the stroll threw your thoughts. I enjoyed myself.
 
Something old....

https://www.***********/s/n52l1zxzsdtj737/00 - Hallelujah.mp3?dl=0
 
💄Your lips are teasing
Corner smirks and light giggles
Supple, pulsing, living delights
Welcoming and heated words
Coy designs and pointed truths.
Your lips are a weapon. 💋

Wow! A wonderful surprise to see some more from you! I love the tone and feel of your latest posting. And can appreciate your talent. Thank you for the stroll threw your thoughts. I enjoyed myself.

Thanks Brat!
 
Where does your body curve
That kisses find their mark?
Where are those secret spots
That turn you from cold to hot?
How does your heat flow?
Where do your thoughts go?
I really wanna know what turns you on.

How does your breathing rise and fall
Just as your breasts do?
Where do I bite you
That causes you to cum true?
Where do fingers touch
That almost make you want to gush
And then reciprocate because of what
I did so much?

And when your thighs spread
And you welcome me inside
Will you grip me?
Or let me have my way with you?
In morning or the noon,
Which time would make you swoon
Which stroke would make you boom
And be a boon for you?
And bring a tune from you?
The sweetest melody...
Born from friction
And wetness coming from you and me?

I want to know you
And play inside of you
But first,
Tel me what turns you on?
 
Beauty behaves in myriad ways,
Sometimes hard to hold,
Sometimes it fades away too fast
To be recorded as it well ought...
But yours remains...
And yours is sought.
Nothing bought, but gained the same.
And thus I wonder, and ponder so
As you read my words, is a smile right there?
Do your eyes kind of twinkle?
To a shiver fly
From the glint in your eye
Down to kiss your thigh?
Do you feel the vibration
Of pointed thoughts
From a curator of beauty
Who has spied your art?
Or are you more intrigued
That some random fiend
Has seen your gold and has not yet schemed?
For...
I see you.
Your beauty shines.
Your beauty reminds me
That beauty exists.
Then allow these words to kiss
Your soul.
Bypass your lips and caress your heart.
For beauty behaves in myriad ways..
And yours, my darling...
Is tangible, and real.
 
Morning denizens and lurkers
 
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