Poetry for My Friend

I love that poem (venus without arms). Very interesting and complex yet clear and precise.

I love all your work. That's why you're my favorite poetess and my favorite everything else. :heart:
 
Thank you my Jellybean. I enjoyed last night. Amy has enjoyed reading of it this morning. Uhm, possibilities do exist my dear. I gave her sex as she read. Her smell still covers me, and I shan't shower as I write today. It's inspiring. You make me so ripe, Jellybean. I want to kiss you right now. I love you so much it hurts, and of course, i love my Amy, but Amy and I sate through physical touch. A touch I desire from you. A touch all three of us crave. Please, If this embarrasses you, tell me. I'll back off. I can't control my affection, nor my need. You know me. Sex is a big part of what I am.
 
Last edited:
Jellybean!

I LOVE YOU!


"Hello Sweetmeat," she said.

How nasty!
How sexy?

Meat on a table,
and sweet for dessert.
A table of woman,
and dessert of middle.

Wet--
she makes me wet.
Warm--
she makes me warm.

More accurately,
I'm wet in my middle,
and warm in my breast.
Like steak for a table,
and pie for desert.

A pink steak so rare,
and cherry cream pie,
A steak of cherry pussy,
and cream of rare tit.

Turns over.

Ant wrestles foot.
Foot wins.
Foot wrestles mouth.
Mouth wins.
Mouth wrestles tongue.
Tongue wins.
Tongue wrestles pussy.
Pussy wins.
Pussy wrestles orgasm.
Orgasm w . . .

BUZZZZZZZZZZ!
. . . damn fucking alarm.

Clicks sleep button.
Turns over.



******

A visit to the middle of one of my dreams.

From the Artist Formerly Known as Sweetmeat.
 
Back
Top