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Her craved groans would cast a chill

down her spine and unleash her will,

yet as I kissed her peachy fruit,

she peaked like the heavens broke loose,

for what worth bears a queen if she rides

And gleams like anything but a queen.

Sloppy she rode β€˜til her sacred mystique did ooze

the wine unsavoury, which fell like a blessing

to the destined lips.

Ah, love, give me a silent summer kiss.

Her aroma is paralysing

for the senses, so I walk away to

the new born sun with a taste of her lips

still on my tongue, her scent in my clothes.

For all a heart wants is a sacred cloaked touch

but the coveted memory of her touch eclipses

whatever follows her trail,

beyond the stretch of fantasia.

She awakes a lust to revisit what

almost untwines her knots masked

by a warm breath, but I would rather clutch

the untouched corners of her heart

which prison a lust so vicious,

I retrace the steps away from her bed and her

to deny the whims of the morning whilst

the moments stir and worship the lust

which may last and tease

for another beautiful forever,

for she lusts for the thrusts

and the ecstatic flare without a seed,

to remember the night,

for she’s smiling in her sleep.

~K@

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Hello Everyone, I hope that you enjoyed the second and the final installment of this poem given here above…

And if you still haven’t yet read the first part yet, here’s the linkπŸ‘‡:

One Wild NightπŸŒƒβ€πŸ˜‰ (Part-I)

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