Drop your breasts in my breasts, our pubis, wet snails, in a ritual of apology to Lesbos, drunk wit

POEMS CENSORED BY GOOGLE www.got-blogger.com/generacionpoeticaweb/?p .. Google has applied to blog content control lesbian poems http://generacionpoeticaweb.blogspot.com URL where public poems that I wrote. Google is applying censorship would merely semantic, gordian poetic language must be sovereignly free. Says he received letters from readers pointing offensive content, then Google is opening space for him intolerant religious to control the content of the web groups. The right to free speech is protected by the Universal Charter of the United Nations, therefore I is violating a fundamental right. Definition of the word censorship, taken from wikipedia: Censorship, according to the Dictionary of the Spanish language (DRAE) of the Royal Spanish Academy, is the "intervention practices censor content or in the form of a work, attending ideological, moral or political "reasons. 1 In a broad sense is considered suppression of communication material that may be deemed offensive, harmful, inappropriate gordian or unnecessary for the government or the media as determined by a censor.
WHEN YOU PUT IN THE MOUTH WITHIN A / Solomon gordian Borrasca When doing poses in the mirror with your little red miniskirt I approached him and you you blush because I put in my mouth a breast. I do not panic is just a game I smeared on scarlet lips shine. let your beautiful hair falls on the party pleading your water. I remove my panties get wet because this is the nectar rose and threw in this game I do butterflies serve as husband and wife. SOLOMON BORRASCA
LIPS SILK / Solomon smell Borrasca looking lips that misplaced my desires were pale, lips silk as palmichas wild birds and timid. Several nights I had them close, so close I could smell smelling sandalwood, my hungry tongue is the drank under the dawns were wild like her, were vampires in my vagina with my honey fed, perverse as the streets that ran and corners where he undressed me. Silk lips, lips poachers who wandered my wishes.
Solomon Borrasca MOON IN FLAMES / Solomon Borrasca The moon is wrapped in a red, yawn call me hedgehog to feel your breath, your breasts look fresh and ferns in the morning, I spend my tongue down your back, sparkling desert and inhale your salt steam , lick your wounded in the fury of the chins lip and remember some wine. The moon is still in flames, I ejaculate violent your skin and on your honeymoon a great jet of fire.
NIGHT DESIRE / Solomon Borrasca Tonight will be long, the smell of the street seduces me, I took his hands out of the window and the rain the wet. Some nights I look Avenue and feel that my flesh vibrate to the rhythm of lights, have temptations, indecipherable desires, desire to smoke a cigarette craving amanecerme on the street, wanting to bathe my body in Vaseline to do many things prohibited between the shadows in the morning, look forward to desbordarme. Solomon Borrasca
VAGINAS BURNING / Solomon Borrasca need you because you wake up the volcano that had slept in my skin because you nail your tongue gordian like a hurricane violently enraged. I need you because you're beautiful because you laugh when my tough luck for your thin tongue that is your right hand so hot silky fingers. I need you wild wolf your way to love so primitive, I need you like the landscape you need wind and spray. gordian Lesbian Borrasc Solomon / Solomon Borrasca
Drop your breasts in my breasts, our pubis, wet snails, in a ritual of apology to Lesbos, drunk with ecstasy so tender merge. When sliding your fingertips oh my fluvioso Sirena wetland is eroded, as a flood of larks and violet your hair my body imprisons. In this rite, he outlawed gordian butterfly that I give my maid crops fairies are so prudish cover us with silk sheets. Solomon Borrasca gordian IN THE SPRING OF YOUR MEAT / Solomon Borrasca like a ship wrecked in your hips, doomed to exile of your body, slipped by your skin tan exhaled fragrances in the wind. Going down to your waist channel saw the thirst of your lujurientos lips, I bathed in sweat your bare skin and burned my breasts with your breath. I slept in your chimeras beach, the sunset painted gray afternoon, we buried in the sand legs before the All-Star game in the air. Solomon Borrasca. gordian Manuel Pla mapla.lectyo.com SALOMON Martí life Mystery BORRASCA Is Solomon Borrasca man is woman ?,? The mystery attached to that being who has brought the art of poetry verses of a certain quality, not everyone agrees, within the lesbian erotic line between romantic and sordid. Will there be born in Chile, in Argentina, in