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CEO and founder of Wurdzpoet, Inc. 

Saturday, June 7, 2014

the rush

where did it begin,
was it the hen & gin?
started out
as a quick 
get away,
a time to play,
didn't mean to stay,
yet the heat
of the moment
was an electric shackle
which imprisoned
wanton desire.
as if on fire,
the cadence 
exuded by their lust
thrust them
into a don't look back
she envisioned
at a rodeo
doing a do-si-do
on the tip
of his libido.
a few more sips,
past the lips,
and their hips
bucked and dipped
in time to sweaty moans,
such sensual tones,
and they threatened 
to reach the mountain top
that damn liquor
always made her
give in quicker.
in the morning,
sordid confessions
to the vicar
would soothe
her aching conscience.
but for the moment,
her hunger
was satisfied.
that feeling 
was justified
when she testified 
with a thunderous
climactic roar...
her second encore.
he smiled,
she cooed
they embraced
and the mood oozed
into dying heartbeats
amidst sweaty sheets.

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