Stories tagged passion

Fruits of Passion

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Lifting a pear wedge to my lips, I hesitate and dip it into my bourbon instead. I notice a tiny sphere of liquid, suspended, glistening with the flame of the candle. The sweet, subtle scent tantalizes my senses. Careless, sticky fingers bring movement.…

A Girl's Legs Stirring The Air

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A girl’s legs stirring the air up behind his back as he lies between her thighs stirring the air repetitively like a sea anemone stirring the water to feed the soul, the hunger between the legs and arms for new life, stirring up

little incidence - (haiku love series - #1)

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you choose to be mine when you take hold of my hand - silently, i'm yours

stoplight - (haiku love series - #2)

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stoplight - (haiku love series - #2) eyes lock in a gaze glimpses of my future spark then you walk away

Elixir

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Crimson dawn cloaks the starlit night,devoured flesh canvassed fright.Memories flash,as moment’s lapse.Feelings trapped,my love gasped.

Valentine query

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Did I flirt first?

A Beautiful Ancient Ghostly Passionate Spirit of the Stars

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Fabio has a soul of passion. A beautiful soul of passion. His passionate soul was so beautiful the ancient stars shone upon him and made him look like ghosts at night.

Circus-thrust the Night Copier (ELECTRIC DELIRIUM 1.6)

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Her fever spreads through lines of a plaid mini, over burnt milk, darkened to yellow. Fingers explore fabric folds up and into the lost dimensions of logic.

Poem to the Full Moon #7

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Lycanthropes are a myth.

Our Lips Are Barely Touching

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And I realize I'm shaking.

you make me so nervous

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Thinking about your eyes (and melting).

Virginity.

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When you embraced me, I felt amazing.I rode miles today to play cards and drink Dr.Pepper with you. Today was the first time. As you whispered the words, the key, I felt your body tighten with mine.

don't let the flames chase you away

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my maddening pyromaniac,/ you're burning up my heart/ so open up your broad-toothed mouth/ and let me pour the ashes in.

i've worn it like a trophy all day

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if i could i would leave/ my beating heart like flowers/ pumping blood upon your doorstep/ in gory testament/ to the way you make me feel.

Igniting the Forest.

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It wasn't raining, and I wasn't in Paris. The moon wasn't out, and I couldn't see the city lights. It was a sunny Saturday, not too hot but hot enough, and I wondered if my bike would fall over …