Morning Dew
Open those eyes and stare at the ceiling,
As everything in me rains upon you like a feeling,
Let your cheeks feel kissed and your hands feel held,
And that familiar taste on your tongue is actually my smell,
A lot of me descending on the lot of you, purpling your sheets, my red on your blue.
Tugging on those lips, nose in your hair,
Inhalation raggedy, this desire is much to bear,
may your sighs match your eyes as you squint to see,
If this beast that is ravaging you is actually...ME.
It is.
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