The curve of your spine
The verve of your lips.
The light of your eyes
The bright of your skin.
The scruff of your hair
The rough of your elbows.
The caress of your skill'd hands
The duress of your mind.
The skip of my pulse
The trick by which you have me your willing submissive.
YOU ARE READING
Desolate Moon (SS 2)
Şiirmore exhibitionism, more emotional outbursts, more uncomfortably uncut honesty. TRIGGER WARNING.
