beauty, love, lust, poetry, sex, women



Make me rough,

Your storms strip the

Skin from lesser men,

But I, baby girl,

See the gentle sunlight,

The humid summer,

Loving them both

To sit amidst your

Changing seasons,

My words calm,

My touch inflames

And soothes,

Words float around me,

And I snatch them,

Mould them into

Provocative tribute,

I make you, all the

Dichotomous elements

Translated into the

Soft hush of surrendered

Bliss where you become

All things through

And yet nothing,

Saturated in the brutal kundalini,

Of my attentive



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