Sinful Poet
Does he look at me with glowing eyes?
As my finger rushes the surface of his skin
He transforms my scattered thoughts into meaning
I gasp for air, but all the motions are beyond me
I choke, I try to speak...
He makes me tremble, he makes me weak!
The bumps, the ridges he kisses so sweet
Makes a complex being feel relief
The beauty in his skript flows past recognition
The tattoos on his skin rise into the air
I see his story unfold before me
The energy he holds within burst out to be heard
Stroke by stroke; I feel myself falling deeper
I love him more than ever
My lust, my sin: He is all of me...