too much too little too fat
I love sensual women and not passionate ones. A passionate woman closes her eyes, moans and shouts and the enjoyment of a passionate woman is blind.
A passi
Please master can I touch your cheek
please master can I kneel at your feet
You ladies of merry England
Who have been to kiss the Duchess's hand,
Naked she lay, clasped in my longing arms,
I filled with love, and she all over charms;
Beautiful, sobbing
high-geared
Much wine had passed, with grave discourse
Of who fucks who, and who does worse
Lord she's gone done left me
done packed up and split
Love a woman? You're an ass.
'Tis a most insipid passion
The sweet juices of your mouth
are like castles bathed in honey.
I go to bed in Los Angeles thinking
about you.
When I see a couple of kids
And guess he's ******* her and she's
Her clothes were almost off;
Outside, a curious tree
I walked on the banks of the tincan banana dock and sat down under the huge shade of a Southern Pacific locomotive to look for the sunset over the box house hil
It was very hot. The day had gone just past its noon. I'd stretched out on a couch to take a nap.
by Ovid
27 lines, 2 comments
He spends the time in writing lays,
And posts them to her.
I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked,
There they are
drooping over the breakfast plates,
O HYMEN! O hymenee!
Why do you tantalize me thus?
of Italian women
who squeeze eggplants
As some brave admiral, in former war,
Deprived of force, but pressed with courage still,
An age in her embraces passed Would seem a winter's day;
I cut the middle fingernail of the middle
finger
I could love thee till I die,
Would'st thou love me modestly,
Quoth the Duchess of Cleveland to counselor Knight,"I'd fain have a prick, knew I how to come by't. I desire you'll be secret and giv
America I've given you all and now I'm nothing.
America two dollars and twentyseven cents January
An obstacle, that came between
Him, and ourselves, and it.
the phone rang at 1:30 a.m.
and it was a man from Denver:
The feverish room and that white bed,
The tumbled skirts upon a chair,
Now that I have cooled to you
Let there be gold of tarnished masonry,
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