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 Nov 2012 JK Cabresos
Angie Sea
How intimate this is
to bath with another
the wetness of me
surrounding you
with the wetness from the shower head

I brought you up
as you lifted me out
wanting this upon the floor
I whispered no with my fingers down your back
and you leaned me against the wall

The glass in the room
seemed to echo my moans
the acoustics so gentle
as our bodies beated out the rhythm
of an escalating in and out

We were building up a sweat
from the steam and our heat
and in heat we were
for I came as you were in me
and you kissed me then

My fingers through your hair
and my walls vibrated
as you came into me hard and spent
I felt it all in me
How intimate this is
For "Let's Not Have *** in the Bath" by Jake Pearson
http://hellopoetry.com/poem/lets-not-have-***-in-the-bath/
Dressed as humans, we pretend to be civilized,
glib talk, fine clothes, all smiles;
conceal the naked ape, trying our best, with pretenses,
but, it bares its teeth, at the first chance.
we know its a game of concealment and camouflage,
still we pretend everything is hunky- dory,
I am a military strategist who loves that art,
sweetheart, you a con artist par excellence,
we are the best of this species,
we thrive, prosper and proliferate.
come, let's dance, dance in this  unholy hour.
What bonds bind my wrists
if not your words
that drip in heat of kiss
on naked flesh,
making of me a willing cohort
in your wicked game.

For once this rope
sang out in schoolyard rhyme
now echos screams in pleasures pain
as wooden handles held in sweating palms
now trace the heat of inner thigh.

The roughness
of well worn weft on silken skin
biting deep as bodies writhe
skipping to a new and frantic beat
 Oct 2012 JK Cabresos
CG Abenis
A heart that is fooled,
Is a heart that continues loving in the form of hate.
A heart only beats
nothing less, nothing more.

Fake smiles, fake tears
no sorrow, no joy
no love I can feel
There's nothing but emptiness inside.
I found peace,
on  water's ample *******,*
the river cascaded,
plethora of questions,
the fervent lover,
wanting to know more and more
though she knows me
body and soul, in and out,
from the days
I was small.
We became lovers
at the first sight,
tickling my ***'y secret places
she taught me, alphabets
of a woman, one by one
now I can read each,
a cryptic tome, full of
secret murmurs and symbols,
hieroglyphycs, Sanskrit,
all rich, obscure languages.
My river, the quintessential woman,
power of meandering serpent, immense
her hands supple,
fingers, mischievous,moving,
which make my mouth go dry,
with the pleasure that erupts in me.
Embracing her cool waters
I come alive,
even when my heart is on fire.
We have spoken to each other
long long hours,
spilled every secret, forbidden wish,
made sure depths of each is  filled with
the scent of other,
I found my peace on the bed of water,
where I  had spilled my seeds first, ecstatic
never forgotten that moment, ever.
 Oct 2012 JK Cabresos
CharlesC
this is an autumn
treeline reflection..
stark edges
demarcations of
minerals and trees..
a reminder of
other dividing lines..
as when we hear
strange notes of the
coyote's scream..
Are there other
lines to be found..?
Where are our inner
shadows and lights
so precisely bound..?

below treeline
golden aspens glow
out-lined and brightened
by the forest's black..
other glistening lights
mark rippling streams..
Meanwhile--
the cowboy poet
renders joyful lines
of wholeness
embracing all such
lights..
and timberlines...
see polarityinplay.blogspot.com  for  couple photos...
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