beauty, love, poetry, sex, women

wear my clothes

with nothing underneath

kiss the fabric with the scent

of your skin

moulded with the honey of

where my mouth has been

rough before

but tender after

press you under me

not to crush you

but to forge you

looking into your eyes

like i’m still fucking you

growl like the sunday morning animal

you called out for

even as i told you no

wear something of mine

it is a flag of victory

when i have conquered you

the sweetest invasion

you’ve ever known

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