Voltaic Buss

Member since 2003 · Posted 18 Aug 2003 · Edited 18 Aug 2003 · 2 comments

I recall that one late night in December When I tasted those lips, Taking sips of your sugar coated flesh While we fondled in the dark. I knew the time was right. The cold gave us the excuse to get closer, to get warmer. You fed me air with your Hot breath, I felt holy death While my hands explored. I plucked strings you never knew existed, and made you sing a song in groans and grunts. My teeth grinding, suckling those Button peaks, turned pink; You felt my shaft sink Deep, within you. You were a socket Just waiting to be electrified. One cold Christmas night The time was right, and I sparked your galvanic storm. [murder... MURDER?? pfft.]

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2 comments

[n/a] Jeremi B. Handrinos 18-Aug-03/9:59 AM Reply

That wasn't very nice. Not very nice at all, but today, I will have you know, I am killing a ballerina with a Sestina, and my friend it will be murder. Did you know that I can write fantastic poetry in every style both handed? While you however are pretending that your on a Harley Davidson of poetry when in fact you're still on that old 1979 Schwinn's hot red bannana seat flicking your tassels and toeing your reflectors. Tsk. Do not fool with murder young man until you have at least written twent to thirty vilanelles, odes and the occasional limmerick haiku concrete lyric. It's immature and does not make you look good in a dress.

[n/a] SupremeDreamer › Jeremi B. Handrinos 18-Aug-03/1:23 PM Reply

-shrug- you into murder, im horny. so what? relax man.