cold from the outside
seeping in thru the cracks
to hold you is warmth, but
passion rises from the heat
what if and would you allow me
to suckle from your breasts
as I warm and get my fill
of mother's sweet milk
and if I penetrate you deeply
and fill you to the swollen brim of your lips with pollen
will you bloom and let flow
your scented nectar to share
could I sip from the mixing of passion's juice
my mouth to yours
as we drift away in ecstasy
the snowball grows and grows
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