What Emerges From a Cocoon?
Butterflies are fluttering around about cordelios entering my stomach. Tis you who causes these mysterious convulsions which penetrate my lonely heart. Don't flinch, my love. Our touch is fearless. Our hearts collide by the way of pulsating syncopathic rhythms. Conjoined in bliss. Tis you, my dearest. Feel my soul touching your secret garden. Don't rush. Go slow. Don't panic. Deep breaths for passion's sake. Allow the nectar to flow freely. No interruptions. Don't speak. Feel. Taste. Inhale. The line has been penetrated. In the pursuit of unity, my heart, your touch. Our kiss, love-making, my life. Conjoined in you.
Tim Bender
Writing as Weepy Budde
[signature]
2012 jan 23
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2012 jan 23
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2011 apr 14
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2011 apr 14
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