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[Gasp]{last letter, first letter} (Other) by sca

You’ll leave each hour reminiscing grasps, soft touches searching gentle ecstasy, yearning guesses stretched down necking gasps, sought to over rule expert tendencies sinking guns sent to osculate, entertaining grown nerve’s spondaic capacities. Summer’s skins scratch heat to open nerves, seen now with honesty, your rough hands spark kisses, shudders sent to opal lovers’ spontaneities, stiff fingers shiver reserving guises; successes sighs sent through humble eccentricities .

sca 6-Jun-07/2:00 AM
To be honest, I've read very little, and have very little understanding, of any poetry I haven't just happened across on the internet.

I like writing literature in all forms, how-ever read mainly books.

But back on track, I have liked Byron whence I've read his works.




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