He makes me sore, through my pores, and i want
Pushing my limits, always and more, to my core….
My dark muse brought to life, like a knife he splits,
becomes apart of me, my only plea….
He’s kissed every inch, pinched, leaving
his mark till we part…..
I love feeling him the next morning,
his smell still inside me, sore, till
i want more…..
Past the backdoor to the front, on knees, nose to doorbell,
my soul sealed, done deal…..
Sucking my feet, trick or treat….
In your warmth I can be found when no ones
Teeth on nipple and I ripple, pushing me just
a little bit more, your little whore….
Spanks ass, breaking me like glass,
and I submiss, only with a kiss, as it
slips between my reds…..
Nails on back, sublime cracks to let you
Hair in hands, every strand gold, bold
as you control……
You nudge, shove, inside, out, making
me drought, until your mouth is
there again…..water me……
That he is adorable, so much younger than me,
but, could he be the key to unlocking…me…..
His eyes like the skies, i want to dip and fly…in
His hair neat, calm, and imagine getting
tangled there, just to hear his breath against
I’d like to taste him, hard, soft, maybe, teases
just to see shadows cross over, the afterlife waiting,
baiting, will he, or won’t he….?
Could praying hands touch sin and still
He knows…because i told him so…..
I want to see him even when i don’t….
Running my fingers through sunlight,
and i wonder if i could make the darkness
rise, see it in his eyes, and just for a moment he
Would he turn gold, be bold, cross that
line, hope to die?….
Dreams come and we misbehave,
Tasting, touching for the first time
in time slips….
I want him intravenously, bleaching
my veins as I go insane….
HIM…on my lips in secret…..
Tick-Tock and the clock knots….
Here i lay twisted in pink and purrs and you
My girls want to be be free you see, so,
i obliged, keeping secrets under the
covers, for lovers….
*Picture taken from Pinterest: “La Petite Mort”. French School, 18th Century | Lot | Sotheby’s *