Ch 2
Woe be the one who is late, she moans
Aghast at the trash she is put through
The crap, the torturous crap lasts, alas
And soon it will be too much for her
She swears she has seen him, along
A long time ago, at the cock, at noon...
(later, at the bar known as the cock...in a long and dusty hallway)
Sexy centaurs linger
Smelling fingers
Bursting with longing
Triggers
Dig your way to me
I crave thee
Oh centaur, so big
With hair on your head
Greater than steady steeds
Breathing, seething, wheezing
I bleed...
Somewhere between the walls
They call to me -
The centaurs full of longing, wanting
With their balls dragging
They bring them unto me
Squeeze
Taste
Long
Have I lusted
After their crusty must
That song of a seed gone so long
Without cumming, building and stunning
Yearning, longing for that simple taste
An exquisite excellence
All up in my taint
Squirting and writing erotica
Like I cannot wait...
Because I can't
Sometimes humans chant
In my head, she says...
But I can't behold their breadth
It stings
Like the wings of Pegasus
On the wind
Over the sea
Coming ever towards me
These exotic creatures of myth
Oh my
Won't you be mine?
I need to be uplifted...
...to be continued
*This block is the sole property of Robyn Eggs. Not for reproduction or re-publication. Please re-steem and share with your friends and neighbors. All Rights Reserved. Copyright 2017.
I curate poetry and posts with the tag #onehumanbasket
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~one human basket~
