BMF's Urban Hang Suite

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*grabs the bag* YUM! I like it when chocolate melts in my mouth and I make chocolate soup...*giggle*

*empties the bag on the sofa and starts dividing them* One for me, one for fr (what do ya want to be called? You can call me Rae), two for me, one for fr, 3 for me....hehehe*:devil:

You can call me Fr33k, or Mr. L if that's easier. So long as I get a few Krackels and Mr. Goodbars, I'm ok that you're hoarding the bag. *chuckle*
 
You can call me Fr33k, or Mr. L if that's easier. So long as I get a few Krackels and Mr. Goodbars, I'm ok that you're hoarding the bag. *chuckle*

You can have the Krackels but we are sharing the Mr. Goodbars...I like nuts in my chocolate. :D
 
I'm thinking if doing something special for Valentine's day. Not sure yet. what do you all think?
 
Wait! I was talking about chocolate.

BMF, anything you do would be special. What ya got up your sleeve?

Silly people...I AM chocolate. :rolleyes: I guess I'd need fav or special love songs. If I know em, ill record short clips of me singing them. I'll probably include an original song that I've been working on too. Hmmm....
 
Twas erotica that lured me to this place of sin.
Reading stories of others ignited fires within.

As an innocent teen, learning self exploration,
roaming fingers found themselves in a tight situation.

Becoming a pro at my new routine,
navigating with ease, my eyes glues to the screen.
I should really slow down, I'm becoming a feind.

Day after day of my new addiction,
extacy led to feelings of confliction.

Trying hard to refrain,
but this glitch in my brain,
the same one that confuses my pleasure and pain.

That goddamn glitch never let me forget,
how good it could feel when I made myself wet.

So here I am now, many years have gone by.
The same girl, except now I have opened my eyes.

I am finally comfortable scratching the itch,
having found the courage to embrace my glitch.

A very lovely piece of poerty Jessi. I can definitely relate to the mention "glitch". Funny how embracing the "itch" made life much more enjoyable;)

Again bravo :)
 
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The Bells, Here and Now (Luther V), Love Calls (Kem), Never Too Much (Luther V), The Point of It All (Anthony Hamilton), Sign Your Name (Terence Trent D'Arby), Spend My Life With You (Eric Benet), Take Good Care of Me (Johathan Butler)

That might give you a place to start....;):D
 
Morning All!

Didn't mean to feel, but it happened
Tried to keep distance,
Yet I travelled...
Closer...
Closer...till
There I stood, face to face
With a Phoenix.
In the presence of a living inferno
I burned, yet glistened.
Your wetness melted me like wax
Then refreshed like the fountain of youth.
And each day as I drink
I can't help but think
That twas not by chance that I'm standing
In the presence of the Phoenix.
Beholding your beauty with shielded eyes
A quivering heart
And loving lips.
 
Pandora

Five-second fuses flare furiously, flitting like fireflies in their final moments. Five seconds is all it takes to tear the hinges off, and Pandora's box is nothing more than a child's plaything in the end. And as we all know Hope is the only thing left at the bottom, discarded like the worst of the trash. But what more could we expect from such fragile minds and fingers? In the end, Hope escapes because we know it to exist, even if the evils of the world are more prominent. Doesn't that make for a lovely fairy-tale ending to the tragedy we once thought it was? Or does that simply add a silver line to the thunderheads we see on the horizon?

Silver linings slip silently southward when the strings slide slowly apart. And when the strings are untied the curtains have nowhere to fall but on the stage, in waves heavier than the stoniest of hearts turned to granite and marble through force of habit. And old habits die the hardest, if they ever die at all. They're damned near immortal, made more solid by our sullen stubbornness.

And what is the lesson in the end? To keep faith beyond all doubt, to make the best of life with the best of what you have? To do all that you can to crack open that box containing our long-lost Hope and set it free? Seems just a bit deluded to me....
 
Pandora

Five-second fuses flare furiously, flitting like fireflies in their final moments. Five seconds is all it takes to tear the hinges off, and Pandora's box is nothing more than a child's plaything in the end. And as we all know Hope is the only thing left at the bottom, discarded like the worst of the trash. But what more could we expect from such fragile minds and fingers? In the end, Hope escapes because we know it to exist, even if the evils of the world are more prominent. Doesn't that make for a lovely fairy-tale ending to the tragedy we once thought it was? Or does that simply add a silver line to the thunderheads we see on the horizon?

Silver linings slip silently southward when the strings slide slowly apart. And when the strings are untied the curtains have nowhere to fall but on the stage, in waves heavier than the stoniest of hearts turned to granite and marble through force of habit. And old habits die the hardest, if they ever die at all. They're damned near immortal, made more solid by our sullen stubbornness.

And what is the lesson in the end? To keep faith beyond all doubt, to make the best of life with the best of what you have? To do all that you can to crack open that box containing our long-lost Hope and set it free? Seems just a bit deluded to me....

Wow!!! I hereby retire!
 
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