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The Dragon & The Goddess

The rising of the warm Sun.
Feels good against my wings.
Kiss colored beams reveal the parted glass.
To the world you rule.
I enter your Kingdom slowly.
Gently like morning mist wedging flower petals.
Knowing that a mere glance from a Goddess.
Will take away the Knight’s pain.
I baked bread with Wizards of Medicine.
Witnessed needless blood-shed
From the Jealous wars of Man.
Cries of Pain and the bickering of Nobles.
Soiled the ground with pathetic hypocrisy.
So I took to the skies escaping the shackles of mediocrity.
Above clouds you escape storms.
Ignore the Earth shaking.
I searched for the familiar clouds that resemble love making.
So here I stand before you.
In the trance of your spell.
Using warm breath to breathe flames where you dwell.
“Good Morning Goddess”
“May we weave connections today?”
(I Say)
Then I bow my head like the mortals that pray…
She joyfully weeps while I twist my tail to wrap around her ample bosom. I give a gentle squeeze forcing exhales of eroticisms. The tip of my tail tickles the folds or her drenched silk napkin. My power & size does not frighten her. Black butter fly wings spread to join flight with me.
We Soar…
Kissing the thinnest atmosphere between elements and nothingness. Both whispering like sub-conscious thoughts, both giggling like children in quiet class-rooms. Free falling, spinning, staring then soaring again. I see the image of the planet blue in her eyes. There is no part of her soul I do not miss with the print of a kiss.
She accepts my gentle dominance raining honey on the clouds below. Her body trembles & her orgasm multiply like summer babies from winter love. Un-countable like the stars in the space we occupy.
 How often does one make love to the Goddess of dreams?
How often does one make love after an Earth season of foreplay?
 Passionately, Savagely & Selflessly.
I never close my eyes during this dance of the flesh. I sear her image into my skull with kiss signatures. The Goddess loves the theater most of all & uses my thumb as entertainment. I watch her slide this digit from my left hand deep into her audible canal.
I explode white hot flames deep into her drenched silk napkin fold. She is pleased as I free fall to the blue marble below. She catches me putting my tail in her mouth. Drinking from me like a nursing child. Rejuvenated we chase the Sun itself, daring it to spar with the moon. With every thrust she changes form, making every stroke new. Heaven is truly here with us now amongst the clouds. The planet spins faster and the Gods of time grow jealous and rob us of precious sand grains. As fast as pain can bring tears to an eyelash she was gone.
Dragons do not cry like mortal men, however we are not immune to sorrow.
 I stay suspended in the air hoping we will dance tomorrow.
GB

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author/novelist/poet also known as Graffiti Bleu, loves and lives in northern California. He was born in New York City and received some serious game and [learn more]

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