Gospel Chronicles

The truest form of poetry Lies naked on a page The way cold natured people sprawl in summer heat Sweat the ink Tip of the tongue a pen coloring passion on a canvas of skin Poetry a bed scattered with literature,  crumbled pages and barely spoken questions of can I ask a favor.  Poetry makes you beg for it foreplay feels better when it consists of a caressed heart touched by the immutable moans from sensual discourse. Nothing else needs to be written gaining understanding our only mission while worshipping the god in you. Your body becomes see through. Your light is what makes you beautiful. So let your radiance shine and abandon thoughts of your body's discrepancies You've always been flawless to me.