my image is worthless,
but not to my lover.
every time I look at myself in the mirror,
criticizing every little thing I see wrong about my body.
but every moment I touch my body,
looking at parts with disgust and guilt,
his hands snake around the skin,
his limbs standing behind me,
and he praises each and every part,
telling me it's perfect to him,
how beautiful I am.
his lips place a kiss on every part of my body,
going up to my lips,
remaining for minutes.
YOU ARE READING
my lover poets
Romantikthe thoughts about love. Simplicity form yet addictive to consume your mind over. Love isn't always perfect. (I know I'm not a perfect writer in poetry, but I thought it would be fun to write out some thoughts I have, and things I've learned int...
