the baron is erupting with local flair
slaver, staring with esteemed appetite
well-fed and flooded
violence and soft cotton
barbed misgivings are thrown into the creek of sheets
filthy
you and i turn over and around, pulling our feet up
sounding off as the water
teasing layers of hesitation.
tempt me
a whisper
a sanctuary, eternity!
whistling at me with your eyelashes
lonesome scarlet women,
i heard you're pointing fingers
No comments:
Post a Comment