Don't be scared of my intentions
Be scared of my confidence..
At how unfaltering I glide through words
Manipulating and facilitating the sexual perforations achieved by this excalibur of flattery

For a woman's might is humbled through words
A woman's thighs is as savory as that of nectar
The tingling delight erupts from the soles of her feets to the breach of her epithelial ducts
Those touches never seem to hint as being the Victory of guile
How gullibe , Really fallible.

The snares of men , an equation to the tears of a woman
The fear of demons , not impeded
The craves for the inner legions , espoused

The grapes of lust , dangling freely on the vineyard
That's my side yard , on it lies my rocking chair
A house encircled with glass , I can see the lustre of the sun through the triangular prism glass
Green nature sized leaves rolled with a straight umber , escaping from its tail ,
Emits vapor of peace and gala , as hurt puffs are inhaled and stoned to egress

This happens all on the rocking chair
The sexual relations , the coitus
The vapour , the pleasure
Sweatily fastened to his body
Pack riding him with such a colossal rump

© Eric James