dark stranger
Virgin
- Joined
- May 14, 2002
- Posts
- 24
you sit there sometimes
like a painting waiting
to be brushed again
you say I am your artist
and my eyes are warm
along the edges of you
when I am close to you
your sounds are on my skin
like the wet of you
when you lean over my eyes
I am but humble clay
waiting for your fingers
to make me hard and thick
and your lips
to shape my end
you are the artist then
©Dark
like a painting waiting
to be brushed again
you say I am your artist
and my eyes are warm
along the edges of you
when I am close to you
your sounds are on my skin
like the wet of you
when you lean over my eyes
I am but humble clay
waiting for your fingers
to make me hard and thick
and your lips
to shape my end
you are the artist then
©Dark
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