His chest glides up and down,
His breath subtle, but ever so powerful,
His arms mighty and boisterous,
His stance sturdy and unyielding.
I watch as he strolls past me,
Unaware of my existence.
But his heart calls to me,
It cries for my touch,
His body teases my senses in an unending sequence,
It calls for my inner wickedness.
He must be devoured,
For the sake of my own being,
I must corrupt then destroy him,
He must drown in my love.
- in the shell of his course
YOU ARE READING
Shattered glass
Poetry［Highest ranking: #15］"Perhaps 'it wasn't meant to be' was our meant to be" he says as he chugs down yet another drink. She looks at him and rolls her eyes, "I wonder when your organs will give up on you too".
