Like hardened steel,
annealed in the fire pit of pain.
Strikes a balance between
fantasy and reality.
Oh smelter...statuesque us.
Two lovers caught in hardness,
admired and desired by all,
but cherished by none.
Yes none, more than us.
For us are those in love.
Loving each other.
Offering strength between passionate kisses.
Jaws slackened and agape,
lecherously searching an explosive zone.
As lust floats along
into each others ears
hoping to step it up.
Oh the caress of sweet, sweet love.
Love, lust, need
all so endearing.
Careening us forward,
impelling us into the next curve.
Rounding the corner
falling upon each other
again and again.
Mystery filling in our bare spots.
Covering it with that which we are made of,
and more love.
Want to review or comment on this
Click here to login!
Need a FREE Reader Membership?
Click here for your Membership!
|Reviewed by Gary Gebert
|I hope that wasn't alive!! Love as you described it, hard. Yet to be mastered by yours truly.
|Reviewed by Ted Sheridan (Reader)
|Perfect nipple. I mean nibble.|
|Reviewed by Tinka Boukes
|Awwwwwww painful nippleoucrabo bite...auchhhhhh!!
|Reviewed by jude forese
|there is an abundance of desire and potential pain (pic) in your poem ...|
|Reviewed by Alain Gracio
|Your pic instilled in me an innate reflex to cringe in pain, but also the realization that reading your poem "More love" makes me yearn for more of it. I will suckle till it lactates.