Author Information
Unknown
Guilty beads drip
Sweating flesh jerk
Mounds sway free from restraint
Teeth clenched
No sound hear
No thought here
Pressure: such pleasure near
The climax of this story is just page away
Where fingers cry on mounds that sway
Guilty beads drop
And this paltry flesh vomits
Clear liquid to contrast its
Immaculate impurity
An offering to the night
Sordid flesh dances alone
Rubbing itself with great vigor
Continuous pressure producing the great
Pleasure of cumming clean
The flesh drowns alone in a puddle of guilty beads
and again, you have fascinated me with your words and your intellectual thoughts. you definitly have a talent for writing poems.