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. Faint perfume. Closed corolla. Not a 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. You who had all the cups at hand, of fruits and honeys purple lips. You who at the banquet covered in branches left the meat celebrating 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 ax 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.

Tu me veux à l'aube, tu me veux en mousse, tu me veux en nacre. Que ce soit un lys Avant tout 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 have 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

Et si tu m'aimais un peu ? Pas par amour, mais pour un rêve... Juste une pincée... L'amour qui s'acquiert est lourd. Fais de moi quelqu'un qui t'aime, pas celui que je suis. Quand le rêve est beau, même le jour sourit. Qu'elle soit malheureuse ou laide, c'est l'ombre... Pour que la journée soit fraîche, je vous aménage cette chambre sombre.

Aux volets clos de votre rêve épanoui Laisse mon âme avoir son regret vers les nuits Le crépuscule est tiède au cœur de nos regrets, Oisif, comme un jet d’eau incliné dans le vent, Il se fait dans mon cœur un soir fictif et lent Fait de l’octroi courbé sur les plus noirs reflets. 

You are beautiful: and they love you. You are young: they smile at you. If some love could open in that heart where nothing shines. 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. 

Abat-jour en soie rouge. Vos cuisses, comme l'après-midi, passent de la lumière à l'ombre. Les jets cachés assombrissent vos magnolias. Me voilà, je viens consumer ta bouche et te traîner par les cheveux à l'aube des coquillages. Parce que je le veux et parce que je le peux. Abat-jour en soie rouge. Et tu me dis que tes seins sont épuisés à force de m'attendre, que tes yeux te font mal à force de les avoir vides de mon corps, que tu as même perdu le contact de tes mains à force de ressentir cette absence à travers l'air, que tu oublies la taille chaude de ma bouche.

J'ai rêvé d'une jeune fille qui couchait avec un galant qu'elle aimait tendrement, et que tout en lui était diligent et qu'aucun de lui n'était insouciant. Bien que mal, elle a finalement résisté en disant : « Que diront les gens de moi ? » En fait, elle a accompli son accident, les deux ont mis fin à leur entêtement. Le galant l'embrassa et la serra dans ses bras avec plus de chaleur qu'une bûche brûlante ; La douceur à répandre n'avait pas encore commencé, lorsqu'il se réveilla et dit au rêve : « Dure encore un peu, qu'est-ce que ça t'a coûté, car pour moi ce n'était pas un petit plaisir ?

Se raser était d'une certaine beauté, toute retroussée jusqu'au nombril, les jambes grandes ouvertes et assise sur une chaise large et spacieuse. En le regardant, elle était très heureuse, après avoir été déjà très bien rasée, et tout en la taquinant, négligemment, elle a mis son doigt à l'intérieur de la chose. Et en secouant ses hanches, il donnait en réponse un certain goût au leurre utilisé. Mais comme il savait que ce n'était pas vrai, il dit : « Faites attention ! Que fais tu? "Ce n'est pas le bois de ce feu."

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 taxi 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. So that you don't forget me, 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. I detail our house in front of him: its little blue door, its blue balcony, its balcony with flowers, the breakfast table, the 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.

Beauty is not only that characteristic that strikes us about a person's appearance, but it is present in every small detail around us. Your outer beauty will capture the eyes but your 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.

“Few things are necessary to make the wise man happy, but nothing satisfies the fool; This is the reason why a large part of humanity is miserable” 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 is always something to give thanks for, we just have to learn to value the things we take for granted. Some think that being grateful is synonymous with weakness. On the contrary: it is a sign of greatness and power.

Peace is something unvaluable. 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. Let us give without expecting to receive something in return and let us rediscover the pleasure that the act of giving implies. 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. Remember to adapt these poems to your personal style and the relationship you have 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. My verses, like burning flames, awaken 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. Your curves are poetic lines, which I trace with 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.

And that I took her to the river thinking she was a girl, but she had a husband. It was the night of Santiago and almost by commitment. The lanterns 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. Two 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 devoured 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 prejudices". 

"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 winter skies 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 advances murmurously through my hands. It stretches my skin. It's announced, it won't let me. From my legs they breathe a tiny, breathy air. From the bottom of my belly they sense the most humid darkness of yours. 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 does not 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's indulge ourselves, let ourselves be guided by our wildest desires and end up together, touching paradise without any remorse after having sinned. I dare

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. 

Beneath 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's the color of the desire and erotism, like mars and jupiter, goddess of the erostim and sexuality, the duality between the 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 hug, 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, 

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

Underneath the stars, our bodies entwine, 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 reveals; It grows with risks, sets and misgivings; Subtant of cries and prayer. 

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! Today I feel that a thousand years of the idea are worth what a blue minute of feeling. My heart died sad and slow ... Today it opens 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. 

Nos baisers sont comme des pétales de rose, Doucement effleurant, enivrants de prose. Ton souffle chaud sur ma peau frissonnante, Éveille en moi une passion palpitante.

I already gave myself and di and in such a way I have tried, that it is my beloved for me, and I am for my beloved. When the sweet hunter threw me and left, in the arms of love my soul was fallen. And charging new life in such a way I have been my beloved for me, and I am for my beloved. Hirió me with an arrow in herbolada of love, and my soul was made with its breeder, 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.

Dans le jardin secret de nos désirs, S'épanouissent les fleurs de nos plaisirs. Tes yeux, étoiles dans la nuit, Illuminent le chemin de nos folies.

Le feu de nos étreintes brûle comme un volcan, Consumant toute raison, tout écran. Et dans cet océan de plaisirs partagés, Nous naviguons ensemble, perdus dans notre éternité. 

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.

Tes mains parcourent ma peau frémissante, Tandis que mes lèvres cherchent les tiennes ardentes. Dans ce moment de désir débordant, Nous devenons un, fusionnant corps et âmes.

Viens, marche avec moi; Nous n'existons pas il y a longtemps, mais la mort a volé notre entreprise - comme Dawn Steals Dew. Un par un a pris les gouttes dans le vide jusqu'à ce qu'il ne reste que deux; Mais mes sentiments clignotent toujours parce qu'ils restent fixés en vous.

Sous la lueur douce de la lune argentée, Nos corps s'entrelacent dans la nuit étoilée. Chaque souffle, chaque baiser, Raconte l'histoire de notre passion enflammée.