MorganTheas

Shaving it off, she was truly beautiful, up to the navel all rolled up, legs wide open, and sitting in a wide and spacious chair. 

💘🌹MORGANTHEAS🌹💘

With love and affection I write these verses to you, So that in your heart you find a place, Where you can find happiness. Surely you have ever dreamed, Of a love that fills you with joy, Well, I am willing to give you that love, You just have to let me enter your life. I do not promise you a perfect love, Well nothing in life is perfect, But I promise you a sincere love, That will accompany you in the good and bad times. So, if you are willing to give me a chance, Do not hesitate to give me your love, Well I will be here, waiting for you, To fall in love with you more every day.

a love poem born because before the poet love already exists before the first verse there is already someone who loves ...before everything CCC There are two lives that meet; a love poem can not talk about kisses may not talk about hugs even skip colors and lights but not looks in silence a love poem You don't need to call on the stars no need to use rainbow no need to paint hearts but you die without the moon a love poem born because you love speak because you love and the moon it is the best place to write it...

I love you, you know that? But how can I show you something that is neither visible nor tangible? The kisses, the caresses, the looks are facts; You feel them, I know. However, there is so much that I want to give to you, there is so much that I want you to feel, there is so much that is dying inside me that is not able to reach you. I would like all my love to caress you gently and you would be able to feel what causes a burning sensation in me. , which expands and expands, which reaches every corner of my body to the tip of my lips, and seeks you, calls you, demands you, which only wants to be transmitted, and make you realize its existence. share me

Suspiria feel I still remember when we entered in that room and we were there just the two of them. we looked at each other without doing anything else, in a long and prolonged silence that at no time was it uncomfortable. I wanted you immensely touch, your caress, but you were there, inert, with respect, with sorrow did me, I don't know. Two lives, one moment, the enjoyment, an explosion of pleasure. This is how your first kiss felt, first time you were in me. It's been 8 years and that memory remains latent like the first time and the desire is just as intense when we were alone in that room

From the very moments that you and I become people, you and I become special to each other, to everyone who would like to be with us, and to everyone who would like to stay, they can always be themselves. I like this about me. I've already told you a lot. Of course, I would like to hear something about you, but I understand that many here are shy and not everyone can say it openly. that's why I try to find out as much as possible about you when you and I are one on one, when you and I, in our environment, in our atmosphere, do what we want to do what we like and in general, in general

My goal is to captivate you and make your most intimate dreams come true. With a mix of tenderness and daring, I will wrap you in an experience full of passion and desire. If you spend time with me, I will make you special and give you the best of me so that you enjoy every minute around me 😘 , I invite you to see my photos and videos and post lovers 💖 , also if you like what you see, you can add me your favorite ⭐ and leave your opinion about me, I hope, may it be nice and positive things. You will find a very smiling girl and with a little madness, but you will also be able to discover my most sensual side because I enjoy passion and eroticism whenever I can, I like to talk about my tastes, passions and fantasies, I love meeting new friends ❤ I love to see you excited and melted.

Shaving it off, she was truly beautiful, up to the navel all rolled up, legs wide open, and sitting in a wide and spacious chair. Looking at him she was very happy, after she was very well shaved, and being mocking, careless, He put his finger inside the thing. 🥵😈

And how he shook his hips, to the used decoy responding, It gave it a certain taste afterwards. But as he knew not to be true, He said: «Be careful! What am I doing? "This is not the wood of this fire.🥵

I dreamed of a sleeping maiden with a gallant that she loved tenderly, and that in him everything was working diligently and none of them had any carelessness. She, although badly, finally resisted, saying: “What will people say about me?” In fact he fulfilled his accident, both of them finishing off their stubbornness. The gallant kissed her and hugged her with more heat than a burning log; the sweetness to spill did not begin, when he woke up, and said to the dream: “Last a little longer, what did it cost you, Well, for me it was no small pleasure?” 🌹

Red silk shade. Your thighs, like the afternoon, They go from light to shadow. The hidden jets They darken your magnolias. Here  I come to consume your mouth and drag you by the hair in the early morning of shells. Because I want to and because I can. Red silk shade.💦

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 the son jump from the depths of the earth. I went alone like a tunnel. The birds fled from me and the night entered its powerful invasion into me. To survive me I forged you like a weapon, like an arrow in my bow, like a stone in my sling. But the hour of revenge falls, and I love you. Body of skin, of moss, of eager and firm milk. Ah the chest glasses! Ah the eyes of absence! Ah the pubic roses! Ah your slow and sad voice! Body of my woman, I will persist in your grace. My thirst, my unlimited desire, my indecisive path! Dark channels where eternal thirst continues, and the fatigue continues, and the pain infinite.🌹

and you tell me that your breasts are exhausted from waiting for me, that your eyes hurt from having them empty of my body, that you have lost even the touch of your hands to feel this absence through the air, that you forget the hot size of my mouth. And you tell me that you know that I drew blood in the words of repeating your name, to hit my lips with the thirst to have you, to hit my memory, registering it blindly, a new way to rescue you in kisses from the absence in which you shout to me that you are waiting for me And you tell me that you are so done to this uninhabited leisure of my flesh that your shadow barely reveals itself, that you are hardly true in this darkness that distance puts between your body and mine. 💋

Because it is not the impatience of the orgasm seeker who pulls me from my body to other bodies to possibly be young: I also pursue sweet love, the tender love to sleep next to and how happy my bed is when you wake up, close like a bird. If I can never undress, if I have never been able to enter into arms without feeling - even if it's just a moment same dazzle as at twenty years old! To know about love, to learn about it, having been alone is necessary. And it is necessary in four hundred nights -with four hundred different bodies- having made love. May its mysteries, As the poet said, they are from the soul, but a body is the book in which they are read. And that's why I'm glad I wallowed on the thick sand, both of them half dressed, while I was looking for that shoulder tendon. I am moved by the memory of so many occasions. 💘

Writing a poem is like an orgasm: stains ink as much as semen, It also takes more effort at times. There are afternoons, however, in which I manipulate the words, I bite her breasts and her agile legs, I lift their skirts with my fingers, I look at them from below, I do what I always do to them and, despite everything, see: no problem! Cesar Vallejo expressed it very well: “I say it and I don't run.” But he hid 🎈

The body of a woman is a sublime treasure, a work of art that radiates femininity without limits. Her curves are soft like the sway of the sea, a symphony of shapes that makes you fall in love when you look at it. In her eyes there are undeciphered mysteries, her deep gaze, like stars to shine. Her lips are sweet, like rose petals, inviting to be kissed with intensity and prose. Her hands, delicate and full of tenderness, caress the world with soft strokes of sweetness. In her laughter the essence of joy is hidden, a free song that intoxicates and infects every day. A woman's hair is soft and silky, a waterfall of dreams and desires at rest. Her skin, soft and smooth as silk, is a poem written in verses of beauty. The body of a woman, a divine symphony, an eternal dance that captivates and fascinates. It is a sacred temple full of strength, an entire universe in each of its promises. Thus, let us celebrate the body of a woman, with admiration and respect, with unintentional love. Because in each one is found the power, to be a source of life and strength to be reborn.

The body of a woman, a divine work of art, A canvas where genuine beauty is outlined. An unparalleled mystery hides in its curves, A universe of Secrets to reveal. His eyes, two stars that shine with intensity, Reflecting emotions, transmitting their truth. His deep gaze, like the blue ocean, It hides ancient stories, as mysterious as tulle. Her lips, sweet and tempting like nectar, They invite you to be kissed, to discover their flavor. His smile, a ray of sunshine in the dawn, It illuminates the entire world, full of pleasure. Her hair, a waterfall of silk and freedom, Framing your face with delicacy and softness. A fan of colors, like a garden in bloom, Raising it to the highest, like a bird in its flight. Her hands, delicate and strong at the same time, Able to build, caress and care. A refuge in the storm, a comfort in sadness, They heal wounds, create caresses, create beauty. His legs, firm and tall like a column, They are the path that guides your dance of life. They tread with courage every step they take, Leaving eternal traces in the history of humanity. The body of a woman, a sublime masterpiece, Worthy of being admired for all eternity. It is a symphony of shapes and sensations, A divine gift, full of emotions.

Like a celestial sculpture your body unfolds, Soft curves like waves in the sea, Exquisite fusion of grace and strength, A work of art worthy of admiration. Your eyes, two stars that illuminate my being, They reflect the brilliance of a stellar universe, Your smile, a ray of sunshine that makes me bloom, A sparkle of joy in every flash of moonlight. Your lips, like rose petals in spring, Magically irresistible when kissing, Your skin, soft and silky like the sea breeze, A gentle spring for my hands to touch. Your arms, safe refuge in times of storm, Wrapped in a hug that welcomes the heart, Your legs, firm pillars that will never falter, A path of passion and desire in each journey and expedition. And among all these treasures, your essence is revealed, An amalgamation of sweetness and unmatched strength, You are poetry in motion, a muse that inspires and cautions, A unique and divine being, unforgettable and invaluable. Thus, surrendered before your heavenly body, I raise my voice in a song of admiration and love, Because you are the very essence of the heavenly, You are beauty in its maximum and eternal expression, woman.

Like a full moon in the twilight of the night, A woman's body shines with its own light. Every curve is a poem, every line a work of art, and in each movement its essence is revealed. Her skin, soft as silk, longs for caresses, while his eyes, two windows to infinity, They reflect the sacred fire that burns within. It is a blank canvas where love is painted. On his lips, a symphony of sweet whispers, a hymn to pleasure that stirs in the air. Her hair, a waterfall of dreams and secrets, that gently caresses her bare back. Her hands, delicate and strong at the same time, They are able to heal and create with just a touch. With every hug, provide comfort and protection, like a safe refuge in the middle of the storm. A woman's body is a mystery, a universe to discover, a priceless treasure. With every curve, every line, every sigh, invites us to witness its wonderful magic. A perfect work of divine creation, a gift that deserves to be admired and respected. A woman's body is life in motion, a celestial dance that fills us with wonder and love.

The body of a woman, a divine temple, Soft curves that captivate every sense, In her skin the verses of destiny are intertwined, A masterpiece, in each fluid movement. In his eyes, flashes of bright stars, Reflection of his soul and his infinite charm, Deep look that captivates instantly, Pure magnetism, is his greatest attribute.

She stands in front of me A vision of beauty Her body is perfection. I can't help but admire her. She has curves in all the right places. And her skin is so soft I just want to touch her and feel her curves against me.

She's everything I've ever wanted and I can't have it But just by looking at her It's enough to make my heart race She is the embodiment of femininity. And I can't help but adore her She's everything I've ever wanted and I can't have it But just by looking at her It's enough to make my heart race

A woman's body is a work of art. Created by the artist who is nature. A perfect masterpiece, no matter the size. Every curve and line in perfect harmony. A work of art that is meant to be admired. And loved for all eternity.

On the canvas of creation, her figure is drawn delicately, with curves like petals that nature has sculpted. Her body, a poem in motion, where each verse is a pronounced kiss. His eyes, two stars that illuminate the firmament, reflecting seas of emotions in his gaze, a flash of stars that guide my thoughts, in their brightness I find the most desired hope. The grace of her neck, a swan on the horizon, elegant and slender like the stem of a flower, invites you to let yourself be carried away by the gentle sway of the wind, to lose yourself in the eternal dream of her candor.

His chest, two hills that transmit life, a fertile valley where desires are cultivated, a warm coat that offers warmth and shelter, a sacred refuge where I find my desires. His hands, two wings that lead me to flight, soft caresses that ignite the fire of love, touching my skin with sweetness that seduces me, diluting my fears and awakening my ardor. Her legs, firm columns that support her walk, inspiring in her step the grace of a goddess, walking with elegance, leaving footprints in the sea, her presence is a gift, a beautiful blessing. In every centimeter of her body I find poetry, a divine symphony that envelops me in its melody, a masterpiece created by the hands of an artist, tangible proof of the most exquisite beauty. Because a woman's body is a divine gift, it is a sacred temple in which I place my devotion, an ode to femininity, to what is beautiful and genuine, a tribute full of love and admiration.

I think about your sex. Simplified the heart, I think of your sex, before the mature daughter of the day. I feel the button of happiness, it is in season. And an old feeling dies degenerated into brain. I think of your sex, most prolific groove and harmonious than the belly of the shadow, although death conceives and stops of God himself. Oh Consciousness, I think, yes, of the free brute who enjoys where he wants, where he can. Oh honey scandal of the twilights. Oh silent roar. Odumodneurtse! 💕

Quelque chose doit mourir quand quelque chose naît ; Il doit être étouffé et sa substance aspirée pour être abreuvée ou allaitée dans laquelle un autre être satisfait son besoin. Il n'y aura plus d'heure où je t'embrasserai en mordant la candide abondance de tes deux seins ; Il n’y aura aucun autre cas dans lequel votre corps se connectera à mon corps ; Publicité Je ne pénétrerai plus la gorge angoissée de ton sexe alpin. Vous vous réveillez avec une autre lumière ; Je refuse. Mon ardeur abattue élève ton autel, ma faim refoulée te nourrit et le gaspillage de mon lit te cimente.

À la vie chaleureuse qui passe la chanson avec la grâce d'une femme sans lettres ni masques, à la beauté invaincue qui sauve et fait tomber amoureux, répond, dans l'ivresse de l'heure enchantée, une prolifération de fourmis dans mes veines voraces. publicité Ils s'en prennent aux méfaits des picotements éternels le puits du silence et l'essaim du bruit, farine tranchée en double trophée dans les bustes fertiles, l'Enfer auquel je crois, le râle final et le prélude du nid. Mais plus tard mes fourmis me refuseront leur câlin et ils doivent fuir mes pauvres doigts travaillés comme un morceau de bagasse congelé s'oublie dans le sable ; et ta bouche, qui est une suite d'audaces érotiques,

ta bouche, qui est ma signature, ma délicatesse et ma parure, ta bouche, dans laquelle la langue vibre face au monde comme une flamme réprouvée sortant d'un four, par une date nuageuse de vent gémissant publicité Quand la lune erre parce qu'elle veut te voler, Ça doit sentir le linceul et l'herbe broyée, aux drogues et au responso, à la mèche et à la cire. Avant que mes fourmis ne désertent, Bien-aimé, laisse-les marcher jusqu'à ta bouche pour accélérer les frais de voyage du fruit sanguinaire ça de l'oasis des Sarrasins me provoque. Avant que tes lèvres ne meurent, pour mon deuil, donne-les moi au seuil critique du cimetière comme le parfum, le pain, la toux et le cautère.

Abat-jour en soie rouge. Tes cuisses comme l'après-midi Ils passent de la lumière à l'ombre. publicité Les jets cachés Ils assombrissent vos magnolias. Me voici, Lucia Martínez. Je viens consommer ta bouche et te traîne par les cheveux au petit matin des obus. Parce que je le veux et parce que je le peux. Abat-jour en soie rouge.

Je danserai sur le tapis de légumes, Ayez le vin rapidement dans le cristal sonore, nous boirons la liqueur dorée célébrer la nuit et sa fraîcheur. Je danserai comme une terre pure, Comme la terre je serai un trésor, et en me donnant la pureté je ne trouverai pas de honte, que se donner est une forme de Hauteur. publicité Je danserai pour que tu oublies tout et je devrai te donner l'ivresse que tu demandes jusqu'à ce que Vénus traverse le ciel. Mais peut-être que quelque chose te sera caché, Quel païen d'un siècle pauvre Je ne laisserai pas tomber tous les voiles.

Habite-moi, pénètre-moi. Que ton sang ne fasse qu'un avec mon sang. Ta bouche entre ma bouche. Ton cœur agrandit le mien jusqu'à ce qu'il éclate... Déchirez-moi. publicité Tu tombes entier dans mes entrailles. Laisse tes mains marcher dans mes mains. Tes pieds marchent sur mes pieds, tes pieds. Brûle-moi, brûle-moi. Remplis-moi de ta douceur. Laisse ta salive baigner mon palais. Tu es en moi comme le bois est dans le bâton. Je ne peux plus faire ça comme ça, avec cette soif me brûle Avec cette soif qui me brûle. La solitude, ses corbeaux, ses chiens, ses morceaux.

La soif de toi me hante les nuits de faim. Main rouge tremblante qui même sa vie s'élève. Ivre de soif, soif folle, soif de la jungle en sécheresse. Soif de métal brûlant, soif de racines avides…… C'est pourquoi vous êtes la soif et ce qui doit l'étancher. Comment puis-je ne pas t'aimer si je dois t'aimer pour ça. Si c'est ça l'amarrage, comment puis-je le couper, comment ? Comme si même mes os avaient soif de tes os. Soif de toi, atroce et douce guirlande. Soif de toi qui me mords la nuit comme un chien. Les yeux ont soif, à quoi servent tes yeux ? La bouche a soif, à quoi servent tes baisers ? publicité L'âme est en feu avec ces braises qui t'aiment. Le corps est un feu vivant qui doit brûler votre corps. De soif Soif infinie. Soif qui cherche ta soif. Et en lui, il s'anéantit comme l'eau dans le feu.

Take me by the hand. Let's go to the rain barefoot and lightly dressed, without an umbrella, with the hair in the wind and the body in the caress oblique, refreshing and small, of water. Let the neighbors laugh! Since we are young and we both love each other and we like the rain, let's be happy with simple joy of a house of sparrows that coo on the road. Beyond are the fields and the acacia path and the sumptuous villa of that poor gentleman millionaire and obese, who with all his gold, couldn't buy us an ounce of the treasure ineffable and supreme that God has given us: be flexible, be young, be full of love.

                  Our love is simple no bursts like one of those houses with ferns and some other frog untimely

Oh, which one I adore you! With the light of day I invoke your name, passionate and sad, and when the sky is covered in shadows my soul still calls you exalted. You are the time that my hours guide, you are the idea that attends my mind, because in you everything that exists is found, my passion, my hope, my poetry. There is no song that can match your accent when my love you tell me and delirious revealing the faith of your contentment; I tremble at your voice and I tremble if you look at me, and I would like to breathe my last breath burned in the air you breathe.

The shadow. And the endless road. The void that imitates the shape of your arms. The monotonous sound of rain in the air. With the spike and the star, with the stone and the tree, with everything that keeps the truth of the earth tonight I love you. For what he lives and sings. Through the plowed fields. By the hand of a child, by his cry, for his eternal miracle. I love you because you love the dream of the future and you extend your name into space like a bow.

between your arms between my arms between the soft sheets between the night tender alone fierce between the shadow between the hours between a before and after.

This thing for which I sigh? Maybe it doesn't make sense Find him an earthly name. I don't know what can alleviate my past, Nor what to call what I desire; The passion of my feelings Roars like a chained tiger.

My sweet heart suddenly assaulted. All for worshiping more than is permissible. All because a cigar sits in a mouth and in its juicy silks it is moistened. Because an inciting t-shirt signals, from his chest, the very hard shield, and a vigorous arm from the minimal sleeve protrudes. All because legs, perfect legs, Inside the tightest pants, they separate in front of me. They separate.

How do I love you? Well I love you to the abyss and the highest region What can I reach when I chase? the limits of Being and the Ideal. I love you in the most everyday life, with the sun and by the light of a candle. With freedom, as one aspires to the Good; with the innocence of one who longs for glory. I love you with the fever that I had before in my pain and with my girlish faith, with the love that I thought I lost when losing my saints... With tears and the smile of my life... And if God wants, I will love you much more after death

In your bedroom covered with dreams, make a splurge of flowers and lights of spirit; my soul road of silence and dressed in calm, will go to you on the blackest path tonight. Turn off the spark plugs to see beautiful things; close all the doors to enter the illusion; plucks from the mystery a bunch of stars And your heart blooms like a triumphant glass. And you will wait smiling, and you will wait crying!… When my soul arrives, maybe you will pray thinking that the sky sweetly spills into your chest... For him, divine love, have a couch of calm or with the mystical lily that is its weapon, my soul

All the plots of my life have something of yours And that's really nothing extraordinary. You know it as objectively as I do. However, there is something I would like to clarify for you, when I say all the plots, I'm not just referring to this now, to wait for you and hallelujah find you, and damn losing you, and find you again, and hopefully nothing more. I don't mean that you suddenly say, I'm going to cry. and I with a discreet lump in my throat, well cry. And may a nice invisible downpour protect us and maybe that's why the sun comes out right away. I don't mean just that day after day, increase the stock of our small and decisive complicities, or that I can or believe that I can turn my setbacks into victories, or give me the tender gift of your most recent despair.

No. The thing is much more serious. When I say all the plots I want to say that in addition to that sweet cataclysm, You are also rewriting my childhood, that age when one says adult and solemn things and the solemn adults celebrate them, and you, on the other hand, know that that doesn't work. I mean you're putting my adolescence back together, that time when I was an old man full of misgivings, and you know how to extract from that wasteland, my germ of joy and water it by looking at it. I mean you're shaking my youth, that jug that no one ever took in their hands, that shadow that no one brought close to its shadow, and you, on the other hand, know how to shake it until the dry leaves begin to fall, and the framework of my truth remains without exploits. I mean you're embracing my maturity this mixture of stupor and experience, this strange confine of anguish and snow, this candle that illuminates death, this precipice of poor life. As you see it is more serious, Much more serious, Because with these and other words, I mean that you are not so alone, the dear girl that you are, but also the splendid or cautious women what I wanted or want.

Because thanks to you I have discovered, (you will say it was time and rightly so), that love is a beautiful and generous bay, that lights up and darkens, As life comes, a bay where ships come and go, They arrive with birds and omens, and they leave with sirens and storm clouds. A beautiful and generous bay, Where the ships arrive and leave. But you, Please, don't go

I love you for your eyebrows, for your hair, I debate you in corridors very white where the fountains play of the light, I argue with each name, I tear you off gently of scar, I'm putting lightning ashes in your hair and tapes that slept in the rain. I don't want you to have a shape, to be precisely what comes behind your hand, because the water, consider the water, and the lions when they dissolve in the sugar of the fable, and the gestures, that architecture of nothing, lighting their lamps in the middle of the match. Every morning is the blackboard where I invent you and drawing, ready to erase you, that's not who you are, nor with that straight hair, that smile. I look for your sum, the edge of the glass where the wine It is also the moon and the mirror, I look for that line that makes a man tremble a museum gallery. Besides, I love you, and it's weather and cold.

I sing what you loved, my life, in case you come closer and listen, my life, in case you remember the world you lived, At dusk I sing, my shadow. I don't want to be silent, my life. How would you find me without my faithful cry? What sign, what declares me, my life?

I am the same one that was yours, my life. Neither slow nor disturbed nor lost. Come at nightfall, my life; come remembering a song, my life, If you recognize the song as learned and if you still remember my name. I wait for you without deadline or time. Do not fear night, fog or downpour. Come with a trail or without a trail. Call me where you are, my soul, and march straight towards me, mate.

My tactic is look at you learn how you are love you as you are my tactic is talk to you and listen to you build with words an indestructible bridge my tactic is stay in your memory I don't know how nor do I know under what pretext but stay in you

my tactic is be frank and know that you are frank and that we do not sell ourselves drills so that between the two there is no curtain nor abysses my strategy is instead deeper and more simple my strategy is that any day I don't know how nor do I know under what pretext you finally need me.

The day you love me will have more light than June; The night you love me will be a full moon, with notes of Beethoven vibrating in every ray its ineffable things, and there will be more roses together than in the entire month of May. The crystalline sources they will go down the slopes jumping crystalline the day you love me.