He kisses upon my lips,
expecting an apocalypse.
Yet my heart beats dry when he looks into my eyes.
The closer he pulls me, the farther I push his touch away.
I try to speak his name,
but I moan yours in hopes of ecstasy.
The memory of you has branded itself upon my mind.
I long for the sweet nectars of your flower,
but instead I am stabbed by his sword.
Jun 17, 2024
Jun 17, 2024 at 10:49 PM UTC
He kisses upon my lips,
expecting an apocalypse.
Yet my heart beats dry when he looks into my eyes.
The closer he pulls me, the farther I push his touch away.
I try to speak his name,
but I moan yours in hopes of ecstasy.
The memory of you has branded itself upon my mind.
I long for the sweet nectars of your flower,
but instead I am stabbed by his sword.