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Touch Quartet 4: Framentation Grenade In the House of Love

The frenzy of neon kisses, pinkly afterburns on imagination's smouldering cigarette, searing tongue savoured lips. A diamond white smile, ghostly rictus upon snowing TV screen's grey deadlock, feverish hands clenched on thrusted hips. The feather-light touch, delicate summer breeze, balmy sexual calypso fingers stroking urgent and hypertense veins. A telephoto stare, terminal gateway soul of aquamarine laser beam stabbed desire, inflicting razor thin pain. The hypnotic facial structure, porcelain portrait of love's short fuse radiator burnt in ecstasy's furnace room. Nitro-glycerine flesh, the fragmentation grenade in this torrid house of love, my consciousness just went boom!...man.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2005




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