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cass Apr 2019
if there was something inhuman about your touch that i could explain,
it would be equivalent to that of an eternal flame.
if there was something to describe the emotions you gave me,
it would feel like a strong ocean wave.

many overpowering sensations you give me are equal to natural disasters.
but for me,
it’s always so calm.

the earth operates with these thundershowers of weather,
and without them,
there wouldn’t be the world we know today.

without you,
i wouldn’t be who i am today.

so rain on me,
even when i can’t take anymore.
Amoy Mar 2019
writings on the inside of my walls
pictures and symbols of our love
deep sounds of moaning rising from within
nails digging deep and deeper into flesh
carvings of sensual sensation
creating waves and waves of passion
******* together in unison
simulating each senses, the aroma of love
written on my papyrus
The colors of the flower touched my eyes
like the warmth of summer air touched my skin.  
Like tenderness of your kiss touched my heart,
space between sense and feeling is so thin.

We’ve grown accustomed to this sacred space,
where we don’t notice the weight of the air.
Still, it touches every inch of our self,
a touch so light we act like it’s not there.

The physicality of our senses
is defined by near invisible touch,
of the lights, the colors and fragrances,
they touch like you, but not nearly so much.

A fluttering feather would crush mountains—
no touch is lighter than your fingertips.
Yet no sensation ever had more depth,
than the weightlessness of kissing your lips.
Instagram @insightshurt
Blogging at www.insightshurt.com
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Jennifer DeLong Feb 2019
Desire is delicious
It's the lingering taste upon
my tongue
it's the exsquisite pleasure
of tasting something so delicious
It leaves the trace upon a soul
It leaves you wanting needing more
That temptation to try only a bite
Yet it leaves you craving that tingling
tasteful delightful feeling you get
when you get a little more
You can't have a little
you got to have it once more
So what's your desire so delicious
that leaves you craving more
© Jennifer Delong 2/19
Frances Marie Jan 2019
Forget me not,
is a hard thought.

Forget me soon,
is the time to change my tune.

Forget me now,
is difficult look back on our future vow.

Forgotten already,
hoping that we didn't fall out of frame,
the friendship promised only seems like a fever dream.

Forgotten my emotions,
you used to give me a nice sensation,
now you're the reason I lack passion.

Regretting my intimacy,

You search for another girl like it didn't matter.
Letting my heart shatter.
Being alone has left my teeth to chatter.
Feeling like the latter.

In only a few weeks.
Forgetting to be checked in as a friend hurts from someone who used to message me everyday. Seems like the promises we made were empty and you're less as upset than me.
Salmabanu Hatim Jan 2019
He came,
Spurted a teaspoon of ***** inside her:
A politician,
A model,
A traitor,
A patriot,
A teacher, nurse, doctor,
An artist, a poet, a writer,............ and I,
A swimming gold medallist.
We all swam to reach the ****,
I was Y and I merged withX first,
A new swimming sensation was born.
If there was more of you
I could touch
If there was somehow
A galaxy of sensation,
I would soothe you
Until the entire world
Turned still and quiet
And all we knew
Was us
x Mar 2019
she looked at me like i was important
.... like i mattered
and she touched me like i was fragile,
but had not yet been shattered
she kissed me with such passion
and handled me with such care
she spoke to me with much grace
and raked her fingers through my hair
she caressed my skin with her tongue
and graced my body with her lips
blessed my being with her touch
as she tiptoed to my hips
she ventured through my thighs
as she stared in my eyes
gave my body a surprise
she looked at me like i was important
her eyes said that i matter
as she looked in my soul
and took it shortly,
latter.
aj Dec 2018
I experienced
and I wrote:

When I think of you I feel like I am going to cry.
Well, I don't cry
but my stomach decides to cave in and collide with some sort of fluttering that feeds into my lungs
my heartbeat turns into more of a tick

into my stomach a small rock is dropped
it rolls around at the bottom
slowly it gets hot
the heat spreads up my throat and across my chest radiating down to where my elbows meet the inside of my forearms
from there, the energy pulses to my fingertips
its like buzzing but with the addition of tiny little ******
I feel that in my wrists

The heat grows heavier on my chest
now I feel it a bit behind my eyes
my hands that pulsed now throb along with my thighs
now the rock in my stomach decides to put press up on my spine
it tickles in a way that makes me want to laugh to relieve the pressure

I laugh but laughing leaves me feeling winded
my esophagus now thinly coated with a foggy thickness
the word that comes to mind when I think of it is dread

my spine is now a magnet that my ribs want to meet
I breathe out
they sink back towards my spine, reaching for something
my breathing feels forced but at the same time I can't control it

my thighs feel warm and almost swollen
my feet are already cold
each hair on my head seems to gain a pulse
certain ones even feel electric
the stinging in my nose tries to curdle my expression
I try not to let it
but my nose wants my cupid's bow and my jaw wants the corners of my mouth

the rock shifts around again, renouncing itself
my ribs suddenly collapse causing my to inhale my own exhaled breath
the stinging in my nose rides up behind my eyes and

(this is where I usually stop it, often with speech or with another laugh
images carry away sensation
I place them back into those mental pictures of pastimes and things potential and things yet to come, replacing the label with "sadness" with "hope"

knowing now that the rock is just my heart, it finds its way back up to the tiny box where it beats on the walls, constantly trying to find its way back out

I remember that hearts do good
I remember my lips, only then do I realize that they had gone numb
I think of warmth

the stinging in my arms, the picks and the pulses in my fingertips
those are the only things I can't beat
the energy at the inside of my elbows goes back up to my chest and  hovers over my heart

the hovering feeling never goes away

but I remember this energy is mine to live with and move on)

but if I don't stop, if there is a sense of weakness to my day
I feel the urge to smile almost
the burning in my eyes gets hotter, it usually comes in bursts
my vision turns to stained glass
the rock starts punching its way up my spine
my lower eyelids want to sink back towards my face, my eyebrows try to tie themselves in a bow
I try not to blink

now
If I'm lucky, my eyes tear up
If I'm not, tears roll down

my stainless masterpiece ruined by a contorted, conflicted smile-frown

I feel air on my tears
I breathe out and remember thought

my hands want to hold
my arms want to hug
my lips are numb but they know jut as well

that the catalyst has come full circle on this one, love
With this poem (monologue?) I had no intention other than to report with words the physical side of emotion. I just wrote as if I was reporting objective, physical sensations. My hope is to make this a series, maybe reflecting in this way within contrasting moments? Or maybe have other people report their own descriptions? Who knows where it will go. But please, enjoy.
Blake Nov 2018
Years have strayed my sensation,
My flame of contentment flickering away,
Fading
As my days and nights are spent,
searching for some longing intensity.

Why cant satisfaction caress me anymore?
Cheap wine and neon lights become my serenity,
Shading the truth that I've completely
Fallen.

Who am I right now?
My body is lethally sinful,
Deceiving my whole world,
That I'm still here
Remaining.

I've been to a manifold of mosh pits,
But I never really left my first,
I lost myself in a mosh pit


I can't return.
Online Definition: Moshing or slamdancing is a style of dance in which participants push or slam into each other, typically performed in "aggressive" live music. Moshing usually happens in the center of the crowd, generally closer to the stage, in an area called the "pit". It is intended to be energetic and full of body contact.
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