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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 10-June 21:45:47 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 19682
[catid] => 1
[aid] => Mick
[title] => The Taste
[time] => 2003-06-28 13:35:00
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => His pink tounge flicks From his fingers he licks the salty, red droplets of blood Marks on his shins Tell of his sins And the facsination he has with his blood Scisors clenched tightly he breathes out just slightly as he forms a new well for his blood His adrenaline churning His lips are still yearning for that wonderful taste of his blood [comments] => 4 [counter] => 262 [topic] => 43 [informant] => Calbob [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 3 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => oops )
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