You're tastier than cinnamon rolls and the red cookies at the bakery, but your touch is like a rose in the dark.
Daring, to even kiss you. My lips are bleeding on your skin, and your lips are made of the deadliest atropa.
I'd leap into an oven, I'd lay on coals, I'd open my arms to inject your raspberry jam into me. I desperately need to be you.
And yet, I could never be you. Your taste is gorgeous but I'm grasping at my stomach, trying not to throw up your insides.
My yearning to impress makes me entirely new, and you're pleased at my efforts. Disguised, is your dislike that puts me into another night of red, red kisses.
© Sincerely, ♡ - June 2023
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My Guts Create A Tapestry - Poetry
PoetryThis poetry is strictly copyright, it's all written by me. These poems tend to be written sweetly so you could be reading the most gorey poem and it'd be like it's romantacised. I don't try to romantacise them, it's the way I write. You'll possibly...
