NicoColeman

You want me in dawn, you want me in foam, you want me in mother-of-pearl. Let it be a lily Above all, chaste. A faint perfume. Closed corolla. No ray of moonlight has leaked to me. Not even a daisy is called my sister. You want me snowy, you want me white, you want me alba. The fruits are small, with a oval-shaped, yellow-purple or purple-orange petal. The meat was covered in branches and left to celebrate Bacchus. You who in the black gardens of Deception dressed in red ran to Havoc.

I want to mine the earth until I find you and kiss your noble skull and ungag you and return you. You will return to my garden and my fig tree: your soul, a hive of angelic waxes and work, will bird along the high scaffolding of flowers. You will return to the cooing of the bars of the loving farmers. You will brighten the shadow of my eyebrows, and your blood will go to each side disputing your bride and the bees. Your heart, already worn velvet, calls to a field of foaming almonds my greedy lover's voice. To the winged souls of the roses of the cream almond tree I require you, that we have to talk about many things, soul mate, companion.

I walk on the stubble of the dead, and without warmth from anyone and without comfort I go from my heart to my affairs. Early death took flight, early dawn rose early, early you are rolling on the ground. I do not forgive death in love, I do not forgive inattentive life, I do not forgive the earth or nothingness. In my hands I raise a storm of stones, lightning and strident axes thirsty for catastrophes and hungry. I want to dig up the earth with my teeth, I want to separate the earth part by part with dry, hot teeth.

I want to be, crying, the gardener of the land you occupy and manure, companion of the soul, so early. Feeding rains, shells and organs my pain without instrument, to the discouraged poppies I will give your heart for food. So much pain gathers in my side, that even my breath hurts because of the pain. A hard slap, a cold blow, an invisible and murderous axe blow, a brutal push has knocked you down.. There is no extension greater than my wound, I cry for my misfortune and its combinations and I feel your death more than my life.

You want me at dawn, you want me in foam, you want me in mother-of-pearl. Let it be a lily Before all chaste.

I want to be, crying, the gardener of the land you occupy and manure, companion of the soul, so early.

Even in a dream I have thought I had you devouring me And I have wet my white sheets crying for you In my bed no one is like you I have not been able to find

I've filled your empty time with adventures and more And my mind has given birth to nostalgia for not seeing you anymore And while making love I have named you without wanting it Because in all of them I look for the wildness of your sex, love Even in a dream I have believed that I have you devouring me And I have wet my white sheets remembering you In my bed no one is like you I have not been able to find the woman Who draws my body in every corner Without a piece of skin on it. Oh, come devour me again Come devour me again Come punish me with your desires more Than the vigor I saved for you

What if you loved me a little? Not for love, but for a dream. Just a pinch. Love that is acquired is heavy. Make me someone who loves you, not the one I am. When the dream is beautiful, even the day smiles. Whether it is unhappy or ugly, it is the shadow. So that the day is cool, I arrange this dark room.

At the closed shutters of your fulfilled dream Let my soul have its regret towards the nights The twilight is warm in the heart of our regrets, Idle, like a jet of water inclined in the wind, It is made in my heart a fictitious and slow evening Made of the grant curved on the darkest reflections.

You are beautiful: and they love you. You are young: they smile at you. If there was a light in the darkness, it would be the light that would shine. This smile of my sadness would turn, a distant reflection, towards the ashen gold of your braid, towards the pale mast of your hand. But I only make this smile that sleeps at the bottom of my eyes - a cold lake that, when I see you laugh, I forget in a happy flash.

Woman's body, white hills, white thighs, you look like the world in your attitude of dedication. My body of a wild farmer undermines you and makes your son jump from the bottom of the earth. I went alone like a tunnel. The birds fled from me and the night entered into me his powerful invasion. To survive me I forged you like a weapon, like an arrow in my bow, like a stone in my sling.

Other, of a fat content, by weight, not exceeding 13%. Your thighs, like the afternoon, go from light to shadow. Hidden jets darken your magnolias. Here I am, I come to consume your mouth and drag you by the hair at the dawn of the shells. ♪ I think I want you and I think I can ♪. Other, of a fat content, by weight, not exceeding 13%. And you tell me that your breasts are exhausted by waiting for me, that your eyes make you sick by having my body, that you have lost touch with your hands by feeling this absence through the air, that you forget the warm waist of my mouth..

I dreamed of a young girl who slept with a gentleman she loved tenderly, and that everything in him was diligent and that none of him was unconcerned.. Although badly, she finally resisted saying, “What will people say about me? » In fact, she accomplished her accident, both ended their stubbornness. The galant kissed her and squeezed her in his arms with more warmth than a burning log; the sweetness to be spread had not yet begun, when he awoke and said to the dream: "Hard a little longer, what did it cost you, for for me it was not a little pleasure?

She was shaving with a certain beauty, all the way back to her navel, her legs wide open and sitting on a large and spacious chair.. Looking at her, she was very happy, after having been already very well shaved, and all teasingly, negligently, she was my finger inside the chose.. And shaking his hips, he gave in response a certain taste to the lure used. But as he knew it wasn't true, he said, "Pay attention! What are you doing? "This is not the wood of this fire."

I turn on and need to turn off. My hand goes down inside my underwear, the other goes up and while one finger goes in I squeeze my breasts, I put another in, I moisten them, I get wet, my clitoris throbs and my heart rate goes up, my breathing increases and my fingers go in and out, I I bite my lip, feel my wetness and touch myself; I go up and down, I give love to my clitoris, I continue squeezing my breasts, I'm almost there, I put my fingers in and out faster and faster, I moan, I want to get there, I'm almost there, and aaaa!! This is too rich.

Take my pages one by one read me with your mouth Go down my spine with your fingers open my leaves Touch my pages Examine my texts Get drunk on my story Return me your favorite book and don't stop until the end read me strongly Gently At dusk With the light of day But my reader, always read me.

I love writing and reading poems of all kinds, but the erotic ones drive me crazy, they make me want to do everything and have sex with literature, waking up naked in its letters and letting its meaning penetrate me..

I miss sex. All its aspects. All my respects. Perversion is understanding. Put your face in the vagina with a mouth full of aspirin and an unknown finger in the ass. And ten minutes later sit in a cab like it was nothing, legs crossed, hands in lap. And yet the prefect padlock of our necks, and his tongue on my neck and the constant heat of the skin of him without pores they will never be able to revive.

Of nocturnal solitude, your heraldic shields, your velvet face, darkened glass of abandonment. Come, oh you, throbbing vine of destruction and plenitude, oh life. And not the familiar jungle, nor the humid contact of your keel with the bow of the sea, not the spur between your breasts do you offer me, artifice or final salvation, yes sliding caravel.

I write letters to you like a real love. I don't want to be forgotten, I perfume them and seal them with my initial. I talk to you and talk to you about life and the future, about going to see the sea together. The house has a small blue door, a blue balcony, a balcony with flowers, a breakfast table, and a tile with his name. What will we call it? I can't stop thinking about it. Name a beachfront home next to you. How I spent so long without knowing where I wanted to go.

UNTIL HERE, LOVE. Here. Abyssal maw of my own desire, chained and free as the anchor among his slime. Here, fervent explorer of joys. Do not fear, my body, submerged architecture, imagined city. Taste brief solace, touch its light, admire its outline, prevail. Darkness in the darkness, fish of shadow, there is no herald that pierces your silence with sweet, memorable, sweet song. There is no herald. Stop, winged brilliance of sleep, brilliance of cowards.

Hurry, come, receive these rose petals, petals like the thighs of impeccable vestals, veiled. May my mouth overflow with its silky pieces, smooth and dense like lips peeking out from my teeth demanding the bite. Gag yourself, the gasp of your high dagger, and let your kiss be the herald of the flowers. Hurry up, untie the ribbons, check the very hard slope of the tight breast, look at it, touch it and spill your saliva on its stiff pinnacles while I feel, in my legs, your threat.

The most charming moment of the afternoon behind the exquisite orange curtain. And on the little table there is tea and a bouquet, faint roses, and on the striped silk ottoman, my skirt spread, my provocative foot sticking out, I wait for you to approach my neck, looking down the dark funnel of my neckline, hollowed out on purpose. I smile and your fingers begin thoughtful precautions along my skirt; They linger in the deep tunnels of the pleating and travel through the curly stars of the guipure.

The character is not only a person who is in the middle of a big story, but a person who is in the middle of a small story. The outer beauty will capture the eyes, but the inner beauty will conquer the heart. "I think that what is called beauty resides only in the smile", Leo Tolstoy

Between the curves and shadows of your beauty I do not get lost, and your clear name projects a very personal light on your body, which is in my love and outside its magical secret radius..

“The first good after health is inner peace, and the first good after health is inner peace." Let's understand each other, accept each other and forgive each other. The decision is ours. Let's practice gratitude because there's always something to thank for, we just have to learn to value the things we take for granted. Some think that gratitude is synonymous with weakness.. On the contrary: it is a sign of greatness and power.

Peace is something invaluable. Inner peace is a feeling of calm in which we stop fighting negative and disturbing thoughts and emotions. It is a state in which we mentally and emotionally remove ourselves from everyday problems and conflicts. We are not going to give anything in return, but we will give what we have. Let's learn to live fully in the present, let go of some thoughts and practice detachment from things and people.

On dark nights, I invent you as I please, we get lost in sighs from afar. I imagine your hands exploring my body, looking for the warmth I crave in each verse. My lips, thirsty for your burning kisses, cling to your voice that arrives absently. Passion ignites, regardless of the distance, our bodies united by the same fragrance. The moon, witness to our secret meetings, whispers promises to the wind in our ears. Desire surrounds us without knowing each other closely, and although thousands of kilometers separate us, I feel you close.

A forbidden touch, a furtive caress, we immerse ourselves in a sea of desire. Between gasps and whispers, our love becomes vulva poetry. This is a way to express your personality and your relationship with your partner. You can play with words and metaphors to express your desires in a sensual and erotic way..

In each verse, I whisper in your ear, sweet promises of pleasure and lust. I link our souls in a moan, intertwining our bodies in euphoria. I am the poet of your hidden desires, the lover who awakens your sighs. My words, like caresses, adults, take you to a world full of sighs. In the context of erotic poetry, my verses know no borders. I bare my soul in each stanza, and I surrender to you, without reservation.

In the most intimate part of my being, a burning fire awakens. The flames, like the flames of the fire, are arousing the passion in oblivion. In the distance, I imagine you, my muse, my source of inspiration. With each word, I caress you, awakening desire and emotion. The sculptures are made of clay, which is painted with a burning ink. My fingers, like erotic feathers, run over your sweet and hot skin.

A slow ing Reachable to the most perfidious beauty to the mystery of the defenseless flesh a blind man chaining himself to life in the midst of secret humidity pretending to be a sea creature or perhaps a demon accomplice of a greedy and sad angel a ing to death a chaining himself a fierce agony among the imprecise and virgin light of an eclipse, closed lips and eyes but open, lost in flower.

She was told that she was a girl, but she was a man. It was the night of Santiago and almost by commitment. The lamps were turned off and the fetters were turned on. In the last corners I touched her sleeping breasts, and they suddenly opened to me like bouquets of hyacinths. The starch of her petticoat sounded in my ear, like a piece of silk torn by ten knives. Without silver light in the treetops the trees have grown, and a horizon of dogs barks far from the river.

Two bodies facing each other are sometimes two waves and the night is the ocean. Two bodies facing each other are sometimes two stones and the night desert. Two bodies facing each other are sometimes linked roots in the night. Two bodies facing each other are sometimes knives and the night is lightning. Bodies facing each other are two stars that fall in an empty sky.

If I had said that her hug went beyond the hug, so much that in the end its contours were confused, so much that our flesh disappeared, so much that we lost our breath, she and I would have devored by the same bloody and insatiable mouth. To experience this tremulous moment once again, to have it, to know it, and to let it go, like a captive bird that we feel throbbing under our fingers before releasing it into the clear air. "Now yes! “Oh my God! "I heard him exclaim the second of his flight.

"We are going to give ourselves indiscriminately to everything that our passions suggest and we will always be happy. Conscience is not the voice of nature, but only the voice of prejudice.".

"The orgasm is the great word eater. it only allows the moan, the howl, the subhuman expression, but not the word"

“I let my silky hair fall over my shoulders and spread my thighs towards my lover. The winters are cold and low, with strong winds and freezing hail. But when we make love under our quilt, we make three months of summer.”

When I look at you, an army of ants grows. It is formed by the mucus in the hands. It stretches my skin. It's announced, it won't let me. The air is breathed through a small, slightly slippery airway. The bottom of the mouth is the most visible part of the body. Like a black sun you hypnotize them. I smell you and my ants get upset, they stagger.

No, I don't miss you with romantic and melancholic airs, I want you and I urgently need to have your fingers between my legs. I soak in the memories of the nights, early mornings, mornings and afternoons in which we took off the cold and d the place with the heat of body love. Now I need you here, curing my anxiety and kissing the corners that the light doesn't know. I want us to learn the kamasutra, to waste time practicing his poses to finish with the missionary, in which I can observe your perverse smile drowned in pleasure..

Let us indulge ourselves, let us be guided by our wildest desires and end up together, touching paradise without any remorse after having sinned. I dare

I want you to imagine me once again becoming yours, to remember the feeling of our bodies becoming one and not wanting to have me there, in the middle of you..

I need you, damn. The only thing I want is to have you next to me, or rather: in the middle of me.

Fierce is the passion that burns within my heart, a raging forest fire, unstoppable and consuming. I am in the most exquisite distress astride you now, sweating feeling an impetuous volcano strain at its peak inside wanting to explode my sweetest self all over you. Be placenta and irrigate your first snack with fetal desire, trapped in the lungs: puddles of molecular oxygen nipple that drips sweat, sweat that drains deformed beats erupting in your inexperienced lips.

Soul says we live, we care we kiss we ask we pray we know the feelings that come to earth now we have become as a child. We are well talked about and wounded darts misunderstood pierce darts in the shallow waters of tears. Let the smiling sun of the sky Wipe away the stain of our pain Come along with me to the river banks Let withdraw our smiles joy and happiness in bulks. Undress me my eyelids and cheeks, kisses the corner awaits you: ahead of the neck raised to be approached; For your lips slowly run through my shoulders, discovered and now that I open my eyes, look at me and talk.

Under the night's soft glow, she finds her tune, A girl who loves to dance under the moon. In its gentle light, she feels so free, With every twirl, her heart sings with glee. The moon, her friend, in the sky so high, She shares her dreams as it drifts on by. Its glow, her guide through the darkest night, Filling her world with a soft, soothing light.

Red velvet is the color of desire and erotism, like mars and jupiter, goddess of erostim and sexuality, the duality between evil and heaven, do you prefer angel or demon? 😏 Root myself in your chest, with every beat sow my arms, paid in caresses to set a sweet love, syrup in your mouth water with my hands your trunk-man, only mine is born in you every night she revolted in branches, leaf litter and fruitful earth: Kneads of flesh like Sarmentosa Mother.

Silk's touch, a whisper on the skin, An echo of passion that burn the most faithful yearning. In each row, in each seam, a secret is revealed, And in the dance of the threads, lust is revealed. The Panty Medias, Witnesses of Mudos of Hidden Passions, Hangs between your thighs, as adult promises. In his soft embrace, I find my downfall, A maze of desire, an eternal surrender. I grab your face for a moment: mythical movie actor countenance, and not wanting to be a hero.,

With every caress, we discover, A world of pleasure, like no other. Your gaze, a flame that sets me free, In this realm of sensuality. In the moonlit glow, our love ignites, As we journey through these passionate nights. Two souls, united in ecstasy, lost in the depths of our intimacy. I felt your hand in mine, your partner's hand, your girl's voice in my ear like a new bell, like a virgin bell of a spring dawn

Under the stars, our bodies intertwine, in the language of passion, yours and mine. your touch, a symphony of delight, as we surrender to the heat of the night. In the quiet whispers of the dark, we explore desires, leaving a mark. Your scent, a fragrance I long to taste, as we indulge in this intimate embrace.

No, it does not separate two adverse lovers or cruel porphy: it never diminishes love or deviates, and it is one and without moving at all times..

With every kiss, we explore, a realm of ecstasy, to the core. Your lips, like petals soft and sweet, lead me to this sacred retreat. In the depths of longing, we dive, as our souls intertwine, alive. In this moment, we find release, in the embrace of passion, pure peace.

In the stillness of the night, we find, a world of pleasure, undefined. Your touch, a whisper upon my skin, ignites a fire that burns within. In the moon's soft glow, our bodies meet, in a dance of passion, sweet and fleet. Your breath, a sigh of desire, as we kindle this forbidden fire.

And in everything you. I have seen the pink aurora and the blue morning, I have seen the green afternoon and I have seen the blue night. And in everything you. Naked at the blue night, naked in the green afternoon and in the celestial morning, naked in the pink dawn. And in everything you

With every caress, we reach new heights, in the depths of pleasure, our souls ignite. our bodies, a symphony in motion, lost in this sensual devotion. In the moonlit glow, our love unfurls, as we delve into this world of pearls. Two souls, bound in this erotic trance, finding solace in this passionate dance.

Love begins with restlessness, request, ardors and revelations; it grows with risks, sets and misgivings; it is a substance of cries and prayers..

Beneath the velvet sky, our bodies entwine, in the heat of passion, our spirits align. your touch, a fire that ignites my skin, as we lose ourselves in this sin within in the soft whispers of the night, we're one, in the dance of desire, undone. your lips, a sweet intoxication, as we explore this forbidden sensation.

If life is love, blessed be! I want more life to love! The idea is that a thousand years of the idea are worth what a blue minute of feeling. My heart died sad and slowly. It is now opened in light like a febea flower. Life springs like a violent sea where the hand of love hits

In the soft glow of the candle's light, we lose ourselves in this sensual rite. Your whispers, a melody in the air, as we succumb to this love affair. With every caress, we write our fate, in the tapestry of lust, we create. our bodies, intertwined, become one, in the symphony of our love, we're undone.

In the twilight's gentle embrace, we sway, in the language of touch, we both convey. Your eyes, like embers, kindle the flame, as we dance in this erotic game. With every sigh, our passion ignites, in the silence of the night, our desires take flight. your skin, a map I long to explore, as we seek pleasure, forevermore

Who says that the absence causes forgotten deserves to be of everyone forgotten.

Our kisses are like rose petals, softly effleurant, intoxicating in prose. ♪ Ton souffle chaud sur ma peau frissonnante, éveille en moi une passion palpitante ♪ ♪ I'm going to have to go to the bathroom ♪.

I have been in love with you, and I am in love with you, and I am in love with you, and I am in love with you. When the sweet hunter threw me away, in the arms of love my soul fell. I have been my beloved for me, and I am for my beloved. Hirió me con un arco en herbolada de amor, y mi alma fue hecha con su criador, I no longer want another love because I have given myself to my God, and my beloved is for me, and I am for my beloved..

In the secret garden of our desires, the flowers of our pleasures bloom. ♪ Your eyes, stars in the night, illuminating the path of our follies ♪.

The fire of our embraces burns like a volcano, consuming all reason, all screen. And in this ocean of shared pleasures, we sail together, lost in our eternity..

Come, walk with me, only you have blessed immortal soul. We used to love the winter night, wander through the snow without witnesses. Will we return to those old pleasures? The dark clouds precipitate themselves overshadowing the mountains just like many years ago, until I died on the wild horizon in gigantic stacked blocks; While the moonlight hastened like a poaching, nightly smile.

Thy hands percourent my quivering skin, while my lips seek thy burning. In this moment of desir overflowed, we become one, fusonnant corps et âmes.

Come, walk with me; We didn't exist long ago, but death stole our company - like Dawn Steals Dew. One by one took the drops into the void until there were only two left; But my feelings still flash because they stay fixed in you.

Under the sweet glow of the silver moon, our corpses interlaced in the starry night. Every souffle, every kiss, tells the story of our passion.