Rift created between her body,
Tension in my manly self.
Bulging,wanting her wholly,
Wanting that passion essence,
Wanting that female moistness,
Cast deep within her valley,
That which makes man lose sense,
And worship her body.
I tremble at the sight of her hills,
Topped with the hard yet tender tips,
Like two perfectly sculptured cones.
Down to the plain stomach pot,
The beginning of her forest.
Deforested yet makes I rain
Her stream hideout,
Her pleasure spout.
And on the leeward,
A sphere for a back,
Down to the protruding hills,
That make I water,sometimes.
Waters that she cherish and feel,
And make her womanly tear at times.
YES !I love the tension she creates,
With the rift between her valley,
Filled with that female moistness,
And her awesome geo body,
When I burst into an earthquake,
Making her flood in its wake.
And she follows with tremors,
Bursting my river in her lake,
A perfect course collision endeavor.