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Nasty woman, unknown, untouchable... untouched!

18 October 2021, Kocc Barma
Nasty woman, unknown, untouchable... untouched!

Man who must be strong to be free, finally. A man who will never turn his back on the Truth.

There was this woman, near and far, who stayed for a long time, unknown, untouchable and untouched. A woman.

Brick woman who found the key to open her Being.
Living woman, vibrant with her new life.
Adventure woman who wants to discover new territories.
Woman book offering her dating words.
Sugar woman who calls man so far.
Tornado woman who offers her tender flesh.

Mermaid woman who wants sex in her womb, fingers in it, squeeze the sensitive palate.

Snow woman who wants to relive the experience that is already far away, this penis that she greedily swallowed, the creamy seed that she let run down her throat, that wet kiss she shared.

Troubled woman who wants to live desire, but not mix languages.
Poisonous woman who insinuates herself, pollutes and breaks.
Leaf woman who thinks she is a tree.
Lion woman who knows how to listen as well as impose her words.
Woman judge who knows how to offer like taking joy.
Woman wolf sometimes patient, sometimes predator.

White woman with the epidermis of milk, with fine curves, a hairy hollow
_ encircling its nest of delicacy, oozing with its clear and warm nectar.

Fluid woman whose blood is a river of pleasure, blushing her fingers throughout the night.

Panther woman moaning the first name of the man, in the light of the candles,
_ his voice sighed in the air, his face hidden in his mane.

Fountain woman who offers herself, who opens, who wants man to invade and fill her,
_which exhibits his wet sex, which enjoys each inspiration of this intimacy.

Woman driver who rides, who lets herself slip, who lets herself in, who waltzes her pelvis,
_each patch of flesh that rubs radiates its ecstasy,
_the hardness of one spreading the softness of the other.

Languid woman offered to the man taking her between her round buttocks,
_ his breath in his neck, his hand on his thin chest.

Woman fever on her knees, the man who touches her with a lick, in ecstasy before her beauty,
_ its length sliding between her lips, between the hairs, wrapped in bewitching fluid.
_What could be more beautiful than a woman's sex?

Embers woman who wants to hear the man shout her pleasure, feel hands on her thin hips,
_tell her words of honey that combine with the flesh.

Hyena woman who wants to take as being taken.
Woman child who wants to cry on a shoulder, like she cried with the former lover.

Forest woman who asks man if he will make love to her in nature.
Feather woman who throws the words in the wind and lets them disappear.
Shadow woman who shies away from the harsh light.
Woman mother who sympathizes with the future distress of man.
Pilgrim woman who leaves without a regret, without a return.

A night of love is a diamond that you create just for yourself.
Diamond which becomes a ball of lead when attached to it.

Woman blows who is silent, who avoids, who grazes,
_which touches but without touching.

Magnetic woman who joins the former lover,
_which follows the call of the next.

Abyss woman who wants the bright man to pass,
_which takes it and leaves it with a single gesture,
_with each flow of pleasure.

Alchemist woman who tests men
_as in a laboratory of Life.

Rock woman who suffocates with her marble confidence.
Clay woman whose insurance mask camouflages the fear of being alone.
Woman angel and demon who makes rhyme stone with light.
Cloud woman carrying a fuzzy soul like a watercolor wash.
Woman eagle that we follow or that we watch move away.
Woman man, woman volunteer who says and flees the light.
Law woman who dictates her rules, forces her will, draws up the truth on her side.
Woman power free of everything, free of man, free of truth, free of Life.
Woman god who takes the place of the Universe.
Woman witch who maintains her grip on the man of yesterday.
Proud woman, angry woman who projects her grudge when she doesn't get what she wants.

Vampire woman who wants to suck sensual thoughts, who likes to feel the silent call
_ of the man who masturbates for her, who enjoys in a dream,
_ morbid pleasure of the attachment to the past which is no more.

Present woman who will not return to the man blinded by the love of the envelope
_that she endorsed for three nights.
_Do the great sufferings reveal what is precious in this life?
_How do a few moments of life become an immensity of melancholy?

_There was this man, close and distant, understood and misunderstood. A silent man.

_A man who did not know that a woman could be poisonous.

Man who read his words, who felt his presence, who shared his experience.

Man who discovered the woman in the new light of his new life.

Man who dreamed of new dreams.

Man who shuddered with the shivers of desire to come.

Man who must be solid to face him, to be at the height of his strength.

Man who ignored his body who before the first kiss, before the first caress,
_he screamed to stop, to leave these sheets of promises, to say no.

Man who wanted above all to live this passion that attracts and scares him,
_with this white woman who wanted above all to satisfy her senses at all times,
_with every possibility offered to him.

Man who lives only the chimera which had led him in this bed.

Man who offered his patience, his absence and his presence.
_How can we have gestures that have no root anywhere in us?
_How can we ignore this Truth when it is so obvious?

Man who touched, licked, entered, filled to reach this inaccessible dream.

Man who wanted to live with her the shared words,
_the moments lived with another, wanted to monopolize the bygone past.

Imposing man who wanted to take a place that was never his.

Man who dreamed of being the eternal lover.
_Wanting to live in the past is like wanting to die. Life advances and never retreats.

Man who was already blinded by the love of an envelope of flesh,
_of the role of this lover whom he knew for three nights.

Man who saw her go away, join the old lover to leave him and come back to him again,
_ locked up and torn that it was between freedom and need to enjoy again.

Man who hoped for a thousand years, waited a thousand days, imagined the thousand pleasures of the thousand nights
_ of a thousand sweets shared with the one who only took a second to say goodbye.

Man who clings, who gets lost, who veils himself, a year of grief, anxiety, crying,

_for three nights of intimacy with the goddess of a barely touched dream.
_The price is expensive, too expensive. The price of ignorance, the price of looking away.
_The Truth must be what is most precious to cause so much pain when we turn away from it.

Man who says no, who no longer wants to suffer.
Man who threw away the images, the texts, the memories.
Man who slowly let go of thoughts, desires, regrets.
Man who must be strong to be free, finally.
A man who will never turn his back on the Truth.

Mmasinachi Ogbechie

Nice poem

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