I seldom stop to think about,
The things that make me—me.
My stardust eyes reflect starry skies
And all that’s in between.
I have a body which knows no rest,
My swelling chest
My full plump *******
Have held most everything.
It was your pillow
When one too many
Problems creased your brow,
It was a saucer,
When you painted me
With honey and olive green,
Only to be licked and ravaged—
Nearly torn at the seams.
These hands have seen more I argue
They weather by the day,
By whenever they touch your sensitive skin
You say, “I like them that way.”
You’ve kissed my lips
With the reverence
Of a reigning queen.
And still, I sigh,
When one too many sleepless nights
I wake between your sheets.
Nov 14, 2018
Nov 14, 2018 at 9:02 PM UTC
I seldom stop to think about,
The things that make me—me.
My stardust eyes reflect starry skies
And all that’s in between.
I have a body which knows no rest,
My swelling chest
My full plump *******
Have held most everything.
It was your pillow
When one too many
Problems creased your brow,
It was a saucer,
When you painted me
With honey and olive green,
Only to be licked and ravaged—
Nearly torn at the seams.
These hands have seen more I argue
They weather by the day,
By whenever they touch your sensitive skin
You say, “I like them that way.”
You’ve kissed my lips
With the reverence
Of a reigning queen.
And still, I sigh,
When one too many sleepless nights
I wake between your sheets.
