Sweet Dreams

He crawls upon me,
like a hungry savage,
searching for a soul to feed on.

Our vocals are repressed,
by voices of enticement,
as we clutch the sheets,
that cradle our bodies,
as we move further and further,
away from consciousness.

He is my poetry.
I am his poet.

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About Blinded by Bukowski

30-something female with a pen and a piano. Reading between the lines, sometimes skipping a few.
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7 Responses to Sweet Dreams

  1. shira2008 says:

    What passion!!!

    Like

  2. david ferraro says:

    Wow. Arousing indeed. More. Give me more!.!.!.!.!

    Sent from my iPhone

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Linda Scholz says:

    I am improving. It’s a wonderful thing if two souls complement each other and bring each other into bliss. Words are powerful but action is the glue. glue.

    On Mon, Nov 14, 2016 at 3:33 PM, Blinded by Bukowski wrote:

    > Blinded by Bukowski posted: “He creeps upon me, like a hungry savage, > searching for a soul to feed on. Our vocals are repressed, by voices of > enticement, as we clutch the sheets, that cradle our bodies, as we move > further and further, away from consciousness. He is my poetry. I am ” >

    Like

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