subject: POETRY, POETRY, POETRY, POETRY, POETRY, POETRY, POETRY, POETRY, POETRY [print this page]

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POETRY, POETRY, POETRY, POETRY, POETRY, POETRY, POETRY, POETRY, POETRY

The flesh was putting up a brave dialogue.

I was willing to play the game.

Stunned, shocked, pleasantly sore

basking in heat of silk throat,

I asked the needles to go ahead

and stitch the wounds without loss of blood.

Wasps were waiting to light the candles,

so that they can attack the pink skin.

The fruit bats were hanging upside down;

time for fellatio. A boundary was submerged

in deluge of anger. It was a white night

for an ice cream cone. God bless the queen.

Satish Verma

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POETRY

The flesh was putting up a brave dialogue.

I was willing to play the game.

Stunned, shocked, pleasantly sore

basking in heat of silk throat,

I asked the needles to go ahead

and stitch the wounds without loss of blood.

Wasps were waiting to light the candles,

so that they can attack the pink skin.

The fruit bats were hanging upside down;

time for fellatio. A boundary was submerged

in deluge of anger. It was a white night

for an ice cream cone. God bless the queen.

Satish Verma

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

POETRY

The flesh was putting up a brave dialogue.

I was willing to play the game.

Stunned, shocked, pleasantly sore

basking in heat of silk throat,

I asked the needles to go ahead

and stitch the wounds without loss of blood.

Wasps were waiting to light the candles,

so that they can attack the pink skin.

The fruit bats were hanging upside down;

time for fellatio. A boundary was submerged

in deluge of anger. It was a white night

for an ice cream cone. God bless the queen.

Satish Verma

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

POETRY

The flesh was putting up a brave dialogue.

I was willing to play the game.

Stunned, shocked, pleasantly sore

basking in heat of silk throat,

I asked the needles to go ahead

and stitch the wounds without loss of blood.

Wasps were waiting to light the candles,

so that they can attack the pink skin.

The fruit bats were hanging upside down;

time for fellatio. A boundary was submerged

in deluge of anger. It was a white night

for an ice cream cone. God bless the queen.

Satish Verma

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

POETRY

The flesh was putting up a brave dialogue.

I was willing to play the game.

Stunned, shocked, pleasantly sore

basking in heat of silk throat,

I asked the needles to go ahead

and stitch the wounds without loss of blood.

Wasps were waiting to light the candles,

so that they can attack the pink skin.

The fruit bats were hanging upside down;

time for fellatio. A boundary was submerged

in deluge of anger. It was a white night

for an ice cream cone. God bless the queen.

Satish Verma

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

POETRY

The flesh was putting up a brave dialogue.

I was willing to play the game.

Stunned, shocked, pleasantly sore

basking in heat of silk throat,

I asked the needles to go ahead

and stitch the wounds without loss of blood.

Wasps were waiting to light the candles,

so that they can attack the pink skin.

The fruit bats were hanging upside down;

time for fellatio. A boundary was submerged

in deluge of anger. It was a white night

for an ice cream cone. God bless the queen.

Satish Verma

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

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