If I Seduce You with my Words, can I have your Body?

You are my fountain pen dripping ink upon the pages of my black soul. You open my spirit inscribing within. Fuck love. We make poetry as one. We kiss memories from each other’s forehead swallowing them whole as if none, smoothing the lines that housed them. We make each other younger. Our bodies grind together like clock gears moving forward but ancient and futuristic all at the same time. Our lips and tongues clasped like hands in prayer, flesh bitten is held like communion wafers, your fluids wine to my tongue. I smell salvation in your sweat. My body exploding in bursts of fire and gold as if autumn leaves are falling all around as your hands are searching my every curve to be found. You penetrate me in an act of gentle violence, and each out is like Excalibur being extracted from me. We roll around in the dirt making it clean again as night slowly comes. Let’s shave the moon’s pussy and go down on each other together, stick our tongues through stars to make them numb just to feel the pins and needles when we kiss the passion relieved. Be the lightning that splits my clouds, the rain pouring out to a standing ovation of thunderclaps as my thighs quiver. Let’s drown in the flood of the orgasmic spell. My lungs full to bursting with just a fraction of your beauty. Let me inhale you now. Nestled in my arms you whisper to me, “No more metaphors, baby. Just fuck me!”

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