All of Him
His eyes pleaded me to hold him,
whispering the words that could only stoy away in the slashed pupils of affliction.
I felt my veins course thicker,
filling up with hot blood,
pulsing from this steamy emotion subsiding in my gut.
Twisting and turning my nerves,
they stung like needles,
they stung like needles.
I striped away his clothes,
the needless covers of false inhibitions,
gone in seconds,
to the the floor they fell.
His kisses rushing over my submissive skin,
left a chill of secrets,
A shadow of mystery creeping
across the walls of my heart,
lerking for a chamber to write his memory.
He was already there,
he was already there.
His hard lips,
a singe to my tongue,
a flame of frenzy,
of which was unfamiliar.
And even though his face rots in the cold rooms of my regret,
when I watch the rains paste in sallow mist skies of a pallid moon,
I catch him dancing in it,
a figment to represent,
the beauty in him,
of him,
all him.
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