I paint the hue's I see
The colour I feel
The brush sways with me
Each stroke making it
A peice of memory

I blend to create
I paint to remind
The lovely pictures I have in my mind

The white canvas how magnificent
Isn't its sight
It Lets you colour itself
With any hues and lights

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When his weighted Breathings
And the tiring smile behind
The perspired shirt
Made those wifely grumblings
Stop at Once for
Her Caring Strokes..

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Smoke!
Evokes me
Strokes that hit me
Throat gets choked
This
Provokes me
To stop SMOKE.

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When I could feel in my heart all of your hidden beautiful pokes, there nothing needs for me to write to feel right. You know, falling in love means? There's no need of waiting for any external stroke, else it would be found often broke!

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In just one STROKE,
of her PEN,
SHE makes MAGIC.

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Hold me by my hairs
Pull it until my skin moan
Put your sword in between
The two fleshy curves.

Rub your desires all over me
While whispering your kinks
With your wet warm breaths
Nibbling my soft earlobe.

Handle me manly..!!
Manhandle my desirous skin
Spreading my thighs
Giving you the invitation to
Commit some sins.

Push your firmness
Deep into my pink caves
While thumping the curves
Crushing the bosom cherries.
Fullfill your filthy lust with
Caressings and tease..!!

-

Kill me before
I take the pen
To have a last stroke.

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My kind of love
Is like a rhythm
A stroke of time
Imprints on heart
Surely a matter
Sooner or later

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As I came swinging to you,
You hit me out of the park
With a gentle stroke of
Your mushy lips
On my cheeks.

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With these scratches !!
I wrote...
My name on your back.

With deep and hard strokes,
You owned !!
My precious wall.

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