[VIVID MEMORIES OF TASTING YOU]

[VIVID MEMORIES OF TASTING YOU]

THE MUSIC AS WE DO THE DO...
http://youtu.be/TFo3qFWKyDY

I reminisce you tasty on my tongue...
Pound pound.
I reminisce on the savage of the beatdown... all pink and brown.
Pound pound.
Rushing blood and rapid heartbeats...
We fucking frantically...
Pound pound.
You on top and me squeezing titty and ass...
Bounce bounce...
Pound pound.
Me on top with legs pushed back to open flower...
Lick me a taste...
Turn you round and let it hang down...
I plunging in...
Buried in your mound...
Pound pound...
Spanking ass cheeks and yelling loud...
Dick strong, dick proud.
You got me tasting you a little bit...
As I reminisce...
Pound pound.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

[A SPIDERS VIEW]

THE MUSIC FOR THIS ONE...

http://youtu.be/0mqIz5DeJPc

I am as intricate as the silken web of the spider,,,
The theory of pi as I mathematically drop these phrases screaming to a computer or phone screen near you.
Come 4d blazing into your newsfeed...
360 all encompassing degrees as I divulge these circular visions... 
What is to be has and will be...
Fractured realities and fantastic possibilities as I weave...
Fly racing by...
My web transparent yet strong as I contemplate...
Wait.
The law of averages plays out...
Fly ensnared.
Another day finds me reflecting in the drops of dew that line my web...

Digressing into these digressions.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

[MAYBE ONE DAY]

[MAYBE ONE DAY]
THE MUSIC... DO NOT MISS THIS...
 http://youtu.be/kiTrToNKR2I

Let me enter your depths and fill your pits...
Become the concrete of your foundations and hold you up...
Let me be the skies that you look at as you find your peace...
A most lovely sunset.
The twinkle of a star in your eye.
The wondering as your mind wanders across the galaxy of time...
We on mental trajectories proceeding into future times...
Stories in libraries that are read and reread.
We the essence and the rhyme... The rhythm's procession tells a story of we falling from the stars complete.
You and I against the gathering storm.
Let me hold you in my arms and talk of these things as my hair grows grey...
Listen to the sound of your voice and dwell in the timbre as you download pon me.
We as symphony.
Rising and falling ... spiraling forth  in crescendo... becoming the beatdown as we breakdown the walls that hold us prisoner...
We as utopia...
Let me in.

jERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY