top of page
  • Writer's pictureLaura Grá


I was born as a mistress of love,

Opening more shirts than hearts,

Alluring dormant senses that uncurl

The ego’s dark and stubborn parts.

I slip my blind hands under your clothes,

Muting screams of lust

Discarding slowly heavy loads.

Sheltering kisses that will last.

I sin like a troubadour of night,

I cut my gutters from within,

Throwing my nudity in plain sight,

Cause when you finish, I begin.

21 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All

Do not

As I wandering into my soul, A burning sigh grows in the deep For all my pains, I'll take a bow Thus, they are mine, even if.. bleak. In dreams of night, the day will rise In many shades of fading ach

bottom of page