Shelter my every taste
at tip and water of your tongue
to take right from wrong
but never towards waste.
Sharpen up those eyes
to spot my real beauty
for in the real things are the prize
of loving me ever truly.
Let me crawl into your pores
and embrace your every nerve
in bliss and pain of now and yore
you may or may not deserve.
Fear not, come close
rest at the crook of my neck
having from front and back
scent of more than mere rose.
Stop a second and listen
to the raw music I make
for you might be missing
a reason to remain awake.
29/06/2017
Nenhum comentário:
Postar um comentário
Obrigada pelo feedback!