Tag: love
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The classics
Like some Tesla tether How well She conducts herself For one sent from Hell solely to succubise my life, And torment me away from myself; Her illusion dispelled, courtesy the thyrsus I wielded Purse of my vision filled like a mugger’s fist at her unshielded I saw well what the flexile well of the mirror…
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Father, they hate my creation
Loathed with gnashing hate my exasperating poems As if created bespoke for their specific knowing. Hate-fashioned totems lashing back at a total failure’s fate, Every evasive facet eight times worked to exert Maximum psychic damage on searchers. Four going down, so next gets the debt; Hammydown schoolgown, neck already stretched. Shoulder chipped like beat up…
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Seating arrangements and event planning discussions for real adults
No sitting furniture required. She uses my face like a recliner, where else? My sinus bones are eroded like a cokehead’s, owing to her coccyx grinding She groans and fucks like only the lonely can If I’d written Eleanor Rigby, it would’ve included a depressing blowbang With yellow marigolds before and after, and cummed tissues…
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Her vagina was the saga-secreting wound in the back of a dying Valkyrie
Darker and dark those arts I practiced More brutal whips were cracked Until her latticed flank resembled the Nazarene’s back And still she came back She came and came and came, and drank All that came Lank days, greased straight In that post-beef languor Full sex no hang ups Had to leave sorry notes up…
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Dirty sex poem only wretched, toilet-tempered night ghouls could ever enjoy
Running rates trading posts would go crazy for Pedometer gains daily equivalent to four restless postmen’s range Smoking haze by acre, through societal change, post-dem USA Reading tracts of Rabelais and it makes more sense than Reddit takes. Got chambermaids, chambered eights Chambers made stately by shameful eighths Chambers made up, for anyone who wants…
Alchemisland 