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Literature Text
im not human,
cant you tell?
im this creature
in which from heaven i fell.
hidden behind beauty,
and sweet innocence,
ill steal your heart away,
then watch, ill break it.
im a goddess,
a being of higher kind,
a temptation,
that messes with your mind.
so listen to my warning,
and promise me this,
that once you meet me,
you wont fall for this miss.
cant you tell?
im this creature
in which from heaven i fell.
hidden behind beauty,
and sweet innocence,
ill steal your heart away,
then watch, ill break it.
im a goddess,
a being of higher kind,
a temptation,
that messes with your mind.
so listen to my warning,
and promise me this,
that once you meet me,
you wont fall for this miss.
Literature
Sex God
I am the name upon your lips
when there is lust in your heart.
I am the sweat caressing your brow and breasts as you look longingly upon male after male.
I am the primal thrust, the gentle kiss
rhythmic passion, and lust fulfillment.
Inhibitions are awakened, taboos broken
with each uncontrollable release of pleasure.
Say my name? No... no, there is no need
For I am Everyman... but not to every woman.
I shall leave no body part untouched
as I explore the nooks and crannies, dips and curves
of your wet, pleasure drenched temple.
I long to enter you,to be so close to you
that it becomes impossible to tell where you end and I begin.
Literature
Angels
They do not wear golden halo's
They are not dressed in spotless white
They do not bear feathered wings
They cannot float in a starlit night
They are far from perfect creatures
They have no powers in their might
The friends I see so saintly
Are not always completely right
So why do their eyes touch me
In ways that melt my heart?
And why does every word they say
Sound like musical, magical art?
Why do I call them my angels?
How do they heal every wound in sight?
And how does every smile they reveal
Send such pure rays of light?
Literature
Goddess
Scarlet flowers surround the wild shrine
in the grove where devotees dance,
drinking from a bilva fruit husk
while jackals circle as the yellow serpent
emerges from my body, to devour each
newborn issue of your loins.
I dance bare-breasted upon your corpse
my Shiva, the orgiastic spiral of my limbs
to the gourd-lute,
stoned on your blood and stoned.
Shaktas sing you back to life,
and to my craggy grotto.
Songs written down on centuries-old paper,
moldering into extinction, from generations of
monsoon and my drunkenness,
jealously coveted as divine property by the
owners alone. These songs to the Goddess,
felled from heaven an
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I think it's great. I stumbled across it earlier today. Very nice.