“
For the sake of a single poem, you must see many cities, many people and Things, you must understand animals, must feel how birds fly, and know the gesture which small flowers make when they open in the morning. You must be able to think back to streets in unknown neighborhoods, to unexpected encounters, and to partings you had long seen coming; to days of childhood whose mystery is still unexplained, to parents whom you had to hurt when they brought in a joy and you didn’t pick it up (it was a joy meant for somebody else); to childhood illnesses that began so strangely with so many profound and difficult transformations, to days in quiet restrained rooms and to mornings by the sea, to the sea itself, to seas, but it is still not enough to be able to think of all that. You must have memories of many nights of love, each one different from all the others, memories of women screaming in labor, and of light, pale, sleeping girls who have just given birth and are closing again. But you must also have been beside the dying, must have sat beside the dead in the room with the open windows and the scattered noises. And it is not yet enough to have memories. You must be able to forget them when they are many, and you must have the immense patience to wait until they return. For the memories themselves are not important. Only when they have changed into our very blood, into glance and gesture, and are nameless, no longer to be distinguished from ourselves only then can it happen that in some very rare hour the first word of a poem arises in their midst and goes forth from them.
Rainer Maria Rilke

suck-on-that:

lotsagirls:

OK: super hot. Zero nudity, zero visual sexual contact, zero language even, and this easily is the hottest fucking video I’ve seen in some while.

via: unfunfunfunf:

leashofvixen:

fuckyeahsquirting:

wethesavages:

wearesavages:

realgirlsaresexy:

thismakesmehard:

realprincess:

I wonder how long it took the others to convince the shyest one of the bunch to do this?  lol

i like the squirty sounds

So hot - seriously. Got so wet watching this.

My hair caught her fingers, and we rebirthed nations

She had lovely catacomb fingers
that clicked on my ears
like hopscotch in a hail storm.

She said love was her gift,
her ability to melt emotions
in droves like wax onto her chest.

She powered on the radio with desire,
rabbit ears listening with intent,
playing static cracks and Etta James

through clouds of marijuana smoke
pierced by her gentle fits of laughter
and the creaking house

Our breath trickled through
the walls of smoke, mixed like oil water,
and I blew my lungs into her chest,

filling her up with life
while groping her like a whore,
pent-up sexual aggression

like compressed air into a balloon
that needs to be exploded with a key
that we share

And so let’s turn the key
Because she is you and I am I,
and Time sucks moments from us,
as quickly as we fail to grab them.

So get up!
as lovers of flesh and sweat
two breathing heaving imagining bodies

melted and poured through
an upside-down volcano made of evolution
to congregate into molds

shaped like the shape we make
when we’re fit together
like one struggling knot

locked tight by shoulders pulled
down with hook-like hands
reinforced by muscles made of lust.

Your ankles cross like an intersection
behind my back, signs up to say
the road is closed with no detour.

Not that I’d ever want to,
but I could never escape if I tried.

You are a black hole of passion,
and I proudly give you my sweat
as our naked chests slide slick

in rhythms familiar to this dance
that we have known well together
choreograph by pure animal

I do anything I want
because anything I want
is everything you do.

And if beating hearts blasted lightning
to power cities by dark dissatisfied

Then our machine would ignite
those dark as death or fiction

Warping time to put history on
a hand-cranked elevator straight up,
as sulfur and brimstone reverse rain

to wipe God out for his transgressions
against man’s holy design

and we feel that time lapse video rewinding
like reels of tape on spools of pleasure, as
Sodom and Gomorrah grows in our stomachs

We shed all control of speech,
and sensation of pain
Facial muscles convulse into tics
quick as stop-motion sunflowers
stereo-blasted by a march of wind
An ocean of waves flow under your back
and lift your spine into the shape of an arch

We countdown as we feel
our bodies begin to empty the burden
of empires renewed within in our stomachs

of gravity reoriented in God’s favor,
raining death back into the cities
as Time crashes sulfur and brimstone
into the view of eyes of salt,

with shaking and screams,
Sodom is returned,
Gomorrah again received.

And now we suddenly perceive
exactly how hard our hearts are beating
to burst our throats.

The Knot of our bodies
falls loose like spaghetti noodles sliding

and our minds flatten out smooth
and uniform like a gentle paste

As we contemplate moving,
we enter sleep as on a morphine drip,
dead to the pleasure of our release.

The radio counts time passing
as it crackles into our minds
through our open ears.

    “At last…”

Life as jelly gently flowing

These days it seems words don’t matter much,
that the whole world is an amoeba jig-saw.
Flowing and changing as life does,
shifting you in and in out of your place
in this place
that we call ourselves.

like perhaps one day I am
home-made napalm
spread as streaks spelling letters
on billboards and overpasses
and old brick buildings
facing the mad rush of downtown,
spelling out a message
as flame spreads to flame
racing to to reproduce like an
angel of death epidemic
screeching high with a
world-wide wing span—

and this message would spell out

    ”You be happy. Because what
        does anything matter if you aren’t?”

But all this is only me for one day.

On another day,
perhaps gravity would push words
out of my throat
    like a tube
    of toothpaste.

And maybe those words would be a poem.

Or maybe the secret ingredient for Mountain Dew.
I have unfortunately never gotten to that day.
But you better believe I’m waiting for it!

View high resolution
and yellow lights melt my eyeballs… View high resolution

and yellow lights melt my eyeballs…