Crevice


Deep thoughts in this dark hole where shrubs are born,

Forlorn, and torn …in to pieces,

The scorn of a woman as she feels unborn,

In a world of sin,

Boiling hunger and thirst in deserts plain,

The gain, and wain… of existence,

Rains down on my body and feelings sane,

Creep up on minds so innocent and pussies as wet,

I crept, and wept … as he left,

What’s a girl to do when she has nothing left,

Pussy wet and crevice deep, was so deep,

Hard to keep, seep..in to thirsty wounds,

I weep at dark and feel the lark of times left to reap,

Times left to regain in this world of pain,

I feel insane, membrane,.. can’t stop thinking,

As the trains, of time’s lanes pass me by and blame,

Curious George hands who find their way amongst the light of day,

I pray, the way..is clearly here to stay,

Long line, so divine as these fingers meet mine,

Sense of time in this moment, I am no longer lost,

In frost, at a cost of words..I gasp,men

The touch of newly born fingers creep, in this crevice so deep, i-m–l-o-s-t,

In pleasure mine with you in mind, strong hands so divine,

Inclined to sign, be mine..and let’s rock,

Up and down, Up and down all night like the fine wine we sip in sync,

The blinks of pleasure feel great as the wet over came my dry,

I cry in pleasure, sigh in pain…I am mine,

Wanting you to be here as I fine dine on my pine

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