Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
Nightly, she mirrored his skin with her hands pressed to the places considered sin when not properly dressed. Connected dots with kisses on his back, arms, lips; the things she misses are ghosts on **** ships. Soft skin lotions her bones soothing the stinging insults, raw by his words in harsh tones, like snapping the straps of her bra.
0
May 22, 2014
May 22, 2014 at 12:37 PM UTC
****
Nightly, she mirrored his skin with her hands pressed to the places considered sin when not properly dressed. Connected dots with kisses on his back, arms, lips; the things she misses are ghosts on **** ships. Soft skin lotions her bones soothing the stinging insults, raw by his words in harsh tones, like snapping the straps of her bra.
taylor-belmer
Written by
May 22, 2014
May 22, 2014 at 12:37 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem