(16+ content, please read with caution or not at all.)
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Sheath whispers drags my gaze,
Another look; but don't ask phase.
You glide with pride, your posture raised
What you've become ingrains my head.
From innocent needs -to fancy greeds.
A-many-light-pleads, you rarely heed.
The power of lust, a prowess' must.
Your presence -a menace when you raise the penance.
Fingertips glide, you ride a high;
Knowing full well your arousal's my denial.
Forbidden tasty fruit -you feel the need to pursuit;
A commotion on the rise as you teasingly walk on by.
Patiently you await -to catch a secret promise,
Souls to the eyes -caught only mid-homage.
Must you force yourself -on those who's not yet wed?
Virtuous brides -are not often easily bed.
~ Copyright Β© Ozlem Yikici 27.02.2012
-another ickle experiment. :)
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