Lubricant Poems - Poems about Lubricant

L uscious liquid U ndulates in the pouring B ubbles to tickle R ibs from the I nside out with a golden C alming, cooling composure effect A lcohol free (sometimes) yet N ever disappoints especially during T hermal reduction as a bonus...

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Love is the lubricant of the soul and the emollient of the heart, both Unguent and viscous, it glides like butter in the summer heat Banish it from your life and suddenly everything will dry up, like a Rose wilting by winter's call. Lubricate love with a sense of purpose...

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meant to be... grabbed with both hands. one can only hold on ...

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My soul had long been troubled... by hatred, dejectIon and contempt. They were the poisons that flowed red in my veins, burning like wildfire from my head to my toes, as if this world were inhabited by demons: that have teeth instead of fangs, tongues instead of flickers, and take delight in loading tears with sorrow. But from that day you responded...

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Our Aunt Ada was so freaking old. But she still craved great sex, we are told. To a sex shop she went. Her last dollars she spent on the best lubricant that they sold....

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When ...

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I feel it smoothly, gliding freely, Liquid fluidity surging. Not a fraction of too much friction, An undulating path followed effortlessly. Movement and balance allowing continuous flow. A sense of harmony as the lubrication guides easily. Embracing depth with no distraction. No tension felt as if all melts with fluid energy. A transition of like particles melding without abrasive motion. A sleek silky transition...

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We all love love, but all agree that friction is our enemy: when all slides nicely, that’s the thing! Of lubrication do I sing. The oil of primrose, asphodel, or axle grease, or KY Gel, one substance that the people hunt will always be a lubricant. In Kokomo, Kalamazoo, rubbing, scraping, just won’t do. If you’re from Oshkosh or Duluth, you know the truth –...

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