Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
M Harris Jun 2017
Fractal Fountains Of Her Shattered Grace,
Radiating Sanguine Light Scattered Across Hyperspace,
            
Cinematic Stories Of Her Synthetic Heart,
A Pianistic Fairy Sonicating Into An Illusionistic Art,

Through Liquefied Eternity & Decoded Divinity,
She Glides With Her Electrified Wings Illuminating Into An Elegy,

Feral Essence & Mellifluous Fluorescence,
Resonating Luminescence Of Her Imperious Quintessence,
    
Fragile Fragments Of Her Experimental Masquerade,
Sterile Rudiments Isolated Forming Into Crystal Palisades,

Metallic Frequencies & Cherished Reflections,
****** Transiencies Starlit In Her Smooched Seductions,
  
With A Touch Of Insanity & Afflux Of Ecstasy,
Her Carnal Femininity Bleeds Of Promiscuity,
    
- 05:09AM
Perig3e Feb 2012
Do you suppose
within the blizzard
of transmitted text,
packed in bytes
and individually addressed
in such a way
that your emoticon kiss :*
and mind *: to you
may have met and smooched
in cyber space
before they 1 & 0'ed
the computer codes
that displayed on screens
our mutual affection?
Rob Kingston Nov 2015
into the night we both walked
under the moonlight we smooched and talked
you wore that nice dress
always dressing to impress
I wore that smile as if lightning had forked
In the great dephts of a collossal anthem
There were ray beams gathered, focused
Beautifully by a magic magnifying glass.

The true meaning of existence was living,
Breathing, focusing on step by steps little
Revelations; non-existing bouquets lit on
Misty meadows glowing in the morning
Dew drops budding on cherry blossoms.

He thought-nevertheless: he's falling into
The infinite abyss of his enticed farenheit
Hell, swirling his brilliant darkish mind to
The point of total absolute white, mingled
With blackness and sweet spectre of love
Profoundly smooched~wickedly nooked.
Imagined by
Impeccable Space
Poetic Lovebeam
She catapulted herself out of the steaming water into the frosty breeze
Laying in the frigid flakes feeling the crunch under her back, she looked skyward and screamed, "I'm alive",

Her temperature and her feet climbed higher and higher and higher up the mount. When she reached the top, collapsing like a tired puppy, she breathed apace the wind into the the never-ending blue sky, "I'm alive",

As the neon peach sunset reflected on flushed cheeks in the hastily fleeting evening, she slipped her shoulders from their cloth prison and quivered with fatigue. And even though she gasped for breath and her knees begged to surrender, she reassured her tired limbs, "We're alive",

Walking in the unexpected sodden spring with pasty, sheltered toes, she stripped her feet and gingerly exhaled her foot toward the welcoming sludge. They met, and, with a sigh, she squished and curled her toes into the sloppy, mushy earth. The palms of her feet puckered and smooched the mud beneath and before returning them to their man-made prison. She thought, "I'm alive",

When the trees outside her window lost their color and blankets swallowed her whole, she forgot to let oxygen stretch to her fingers and toes, but the voice that kept her company repeated, "You're alive, You're alive, I'm alive",

And when she threw the pills and her past out the window, her heart beat tapped her on the shoulder and reminded her, "You're still alive".
Maybe it's the way we danced the tango,
our arms gripped tight around each others'
torsos twirling and strutting down the
street.
Maybe it's the way the fragrant rose in your mouth intoxicated and clouded my vision and thoughts.
Maybe it's the way you grinned when my legs dabbled beneath yours or maybe
it's the way you smooched me after that first performance.
"Querida mía," he crooned.
I still remember when he stroked my hair and implored,
*"Please be my partner forever."
Salmabanu Hatim Feb 2019
My grandma's hands,
My mum's lap,
My dad's chest,
Were ideal pillows,
But, my pillow,
My bedfellow,
My partner of crimes,
In all my emotional times,
Has a story to tell.
Night is when she lets go,
I, the pillow bear the blow.
I get tossed, thumped and battered when she is angry,
And when she is full of joy,
I am smooched with hugs,kisses
and cuddles,
When she is sad,
I witness her pain,
She can fool anybody but not me,
Her tears pour out on me ,
I am drenched,
At last she falls asleep,
Curled into a ball, hugging me tightly.
I smell of her, I love her,
I understand the pain of her tears,
The ecstasy of her laughter,
And all her secrets I hold within me.
She and I, forever together.
11/2/2019
Leila The Kiwi May 2019
My cat smooched me
Resulting in
An idea

I should copy him
And let go
Of loose ends

Watch them fall
Upon the ground
Never to be
Found
Again

l.v.s
Just a random thought, he's letting go of a lot of things and I should too.
JP Apr 2020
Am a runway
her smile
Like an aircraft
touched and
smooched my lips
KorbydAngyle Dec 2020
It's actually the need to impress.

As  seeing her wicked beauty more grandeur than a dream...
as if a  thaumaturgist sharing facts...  a warning how to work the chemical tinctures, how your doing it.

Is she a coy feral  ****? Knowing 'can make interested  those whose core advocates all companionship's cruxes- includes no adorning.

As much as losers slip about, we're actually revealed to be there faster than insects- the spiders which web  reminders, fears, no identity.

It's difficult to see one's self... to try a swanky nested intention of approach to this queen, indubitably "any way is right" internal  validity.

Please caress our person, our chimes, ***** thinks "**** I'm cheap", some great person identifies, as society vows- some if it's power.
So to speak.

Universe of causes.. everyone except the questioning. What are my failures? Ends to a means, yet, she can't go grind this meat.

With these wings, lace, lipstick, her golden gloves all just ebb
and flow... boyfriends who attack to return to ascension.

The epitome of smirks bade, perhaps once smooched by the garbage.
She does so good, that all you, are gazelle. You got a problem druggy, mr milquetoast, go  fast... for she can't have any of that, time is only a mirage.

To say it backwards. Do precious atypical she beings have an earlier keeper, did they free the kingdom of this queen and what followed?

Simply too much momentum for now.  
It seems her favor delays celebrations.

As reality is beat to the verse of the impressed and
free achievement... or not, for truth knows  
not so hollow pain can her beauty be...

As all who've ever set eyes on her with
muster of painful delight go forth eternally!
Salmabanu Hatim Aug 2020
When I am sad and angry my pillow suffers and bears the brunt most,
It's case drenched with salty tears,
Punched again and again when in frustration,
Hugged tightly in my arms or between my knees for solace,
Smooched with lipstick,
And used as tissue wipe for runny nose .
Poor thing it also acts my holder,
My secrets forever,
And little things I want to hide from my siblings which they want and I am adamant  not to give,
Then it becomes a sit on,
When the situation becomes tense then it has to fight with their pillows.
Fare,wear and tear,
It has become out of shape,
But it is my heart,
And I can't part with my heart.
14/8/2020

— The End —