It is amusing the way your hands are sturdy and unyielding
and still I find addictive their polished touch
built from the ground up as days of mixing
molding and texturing gave life to these merciful enclosing frames
I would break all my limbs
skin and bones to have you mold me as a clay sculpture on the wheel
bending to the touch
firmly trace the veins that lead to your heart
and transform us into voyeuristic art
search for the fine tactile details decide which parts will bend or break
transform me into a work of art that can only be seen
through an unconditional gaze
and conceal my faulty facets
with each strike crack my imperfections away
pile them up in an intertwined stack of wrecked ruins of flaws
and misinterpreted portraits
I am desperate for the fixed contact that your grasp brings
your caressed stroke on my skin that makes my whole self careen
constantly trembling swiftly and in an uncontrolled way
immortalize me now since I do not want to ever decay
chisel away the unnecessary
sculpt a masterpiece
carve your knife into my skin
because this is how art is made
paint me golden with your touch
sculpt me
cut me with soft delightful whispers and
treacherous inducements
sketch the scars that trace my chest
and color the bruises
carve me into a timeless artistry
not so heavy hearted
fade my poisoned thoughts into dust
and crumble anything else that cannot be altered
chisel away the unnecessary
sculpt my sorrowful self away
carve your knife and trace oaths into my skin
because there is a masterpiece waiting to be made
what is to be of me if not eternally yours
YOU ARE READING
hopeless devotion
Poetry[poetry | prose] incapable of redemption or improvement; lack of control, responsibility, and reasoning a collection of blind love thoughts and the irrational faithfulness that comes within © all rights reserved | desantiagooox
