Spicy and tasty, erotic and salacious, enticing me lately, so high on a spaceship. <br />Dirty dancing through the mind of a feeble, so exotic and sacred, he is feeling her evil. <br />Seductive and fruitful, not empty, like void. She filled him with the truthful, love of a boy. <br /> <br />Its like mango lasi, after vindaloo, before the sweet crust of her Nan. Her Yoni was heated with the temperate <br />steam of a tropical rain, while her hairs became the forest, of a tropical terrain. His phallus spilled <br />out waters like a torrent, or deluge, of passion, which overflowed, her Berlin walls. <br /> <br />No matter how much water or sweat, her hair curled like lambs wool, that was churned like butter, to be soft as her kiss. <br />Pungent like curry, the taste of her inner depths, was like a delicacy, only to be share by Kings and Queens. <br />Wrapped in the sheets of the latter passion, she awakes like a new born dolphin, with the look of new intelligence. <br />Looking red like mars, filled with the blush of an actress, I could only call beauty Ms. Indian Hemp.<br /><br />Josephe Buchanan<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/indian-hemp/
