Nothing More
With the part of her claret lips
my will now subjugate
Disguised within her eyes lust hides
A flick of her eyelash
clothes no just merely cloth
Ripped from burning drowning skin
Let me taste your air
withing my lungs
writhing liquid shores
i wiil be your whore
and ask for nothing more
Copyright © Christopher Quigley | Year Posted 2020
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