15.4.12

Midnight talks.


your nails rake days into my skin
marks of imprisonment in blotched red
scratches of a prisoner on stony walls
lines crossing with every touch
i'm a patchwork of need and you're what pulled me apart
shred my mask of pure intentions
sink me into velvet pleasures
drown me in your lips
where my name is lost

in the crevice between your ribs

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