She comes with a body. Lithe, plain.
Two things Warchief said no, don't chew.
Don't disgrace the Orc way.
If you transgress it better be just to
rip off her arms. You're in my palm.
(I'm in whose palm?)
He comes with a presence. Foreign.
Alien of the Karwa Wastes.
Don't you pass this chance on.
You recognize, don't you, when
better comes along? You're in my palm.
(I'm in whose palm?)
Douse the candles in the war hall
for me my lines arrested caught
in the splinters of dry throat
won't reach the thunderous cry
you repress, to release me.

You were a petal of a rose
That settled on my palm
And I blew you away.


-- Eleanor

Spank it, **** it,pull it hard, call it a Name,
Make it hard, just us those palm muscles
That have been working over time on this
Single person and their knackered hand.

****** it, shout at it, **** this doesn't usually
Happen, dam why are you not going hard.

Put **** on it make it wet, like in a *****
Just imagine two wet lips legs nicely spread
Apart, just  pam and her five sisters and a
Lonely curved palm.

Use your imagination so it,ll stay hopefully
Hard, my god my hands going dead this is
To much like hard work.

Tug in silence or moan out loud, over a magazine
Or over **** on TV, sound turned down don't
Want other to know, what ever floats the boat just
To get to that point that you need to ooze it all out.

But for the love of god make sure your door is locked,
To have your mother or wife walk in saying,

"WHAT THE ****,

You'll be limp in a second, and lost for a good excuse.
Of why you got ****, toilet roll and hand spanking
While shouting filthy ***** words out.

her touch is so gentle
and her hands, so soft.
smoothly, they glide
briefly across

my skin; i breath
her scent into my lungs
deeply
briefly

she must never know
the thoroughness of
my enjoyment of
her fingertips.

fluttering eyelids
and stilled motion
might give me
away, but

even still, she must
never
know

.

Your hands/your fingers/your palms,
Twined -a vine- delicate and proper
-The one point of softness in you,
I swear-
Around a cigarette that whispers its
Spiral tower wisps
Before it sizzles when you bite it
By accident (you say)
Before it whimpers, and gives-
The best way to die, surely,
To die on the pad of the tip of your
Finger protruding out your
Lovely balmy palm-
Look pretty fab I think! I want
To jump into them
So you can hold me so close
And I can crawl over, unsteady
On new, shortened (further!) legs
To the point on your wrist where
Your heart throbs the most.
In other words,
Be mine.

You stare up at me
As I type, type, type away
With those big eyes of yours
Pleading for cuddles
And scratches
And kisses galore
But I can't I say
I've got work to do
You reach out a paw
Mournfully whining
I give in, tempting fate
For your soft fur
And wet licks across my palm
I giggle
As your tail wags
At a hundred miles per second
And leave my homework
For your joyful personality
Instead

Whenever the sweet-scented
calyx of palm collects the blue
midday sun in your hair, I sit
passing time in the moon’s
phases and listen to the roaring
silence of thousands of fireflies.

I see a speck of sugar,
One sparkling crystal
Holding the sky, stars and the earth
Here on my palm.
I can not send it to you
But I pick it on the tip of my tongue
To share with you all
The sweetness.