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I want you to touch my skin,
you could live marks there.
I wouldn't care.
you see—
you could put color all over my skin, make me your canvas,
my arm's a sketchpad,
and you could start with my lips.
I wouldn't care if people say tan's out.
you know fully well that I'll die without your touch.
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YOU ARE READING
DRUNKEN HEART, SOBER THOUGHTS | ✔
PoetryWhy bother with spirits, when I can get drunk off your kisses? Copyright ©2020 stainofaredwine.
