Rhymes, Writings, and Confessions to Small Crimes

I just want to enlighten you in ways, in which you would like… But those things are, apologetically, forbidden. I like to imagine that your smell is like leather, cleaned and raw.

Do you keep your domain dimmed to a calm perfection? Awkward silences could be quite alluring if you are present. Your confidence makes me so curious, do you still portray such strength behind closed doors?

I picture your bedroom; with tacky burgundies, browns, and dark pastels. But when ecstasy arises her gorgeous head, the colors spin and swirl into a delicious vintage paisley dream.

Your touch seems delicate, nervous, and purposeful. My warm kiss on your cool cheek, my hands cupping your head to maintain a strong grip.

And paisley flowers dance on…


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