Bodyprint

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.