your fingers linger on my skin,
setting me on fire
every time our skin connects.
my nerves flare like
bolts of lightning,
the fear of getting burned
by your flame
dissipating in the storm
between two pairs of lips.
YOU ARE READING
•metamorphism of me• [finished]
Poesíajust a collection of shitty writings from ya girl
lust v2
your fingers linger on my skin,
setting me on fire
every time our skin connects.
my nerves flare like
bolts of lightning,
the fear of getting burned
by your flame
dissipating in the storm
between two pairs of lips.