Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Sep 2015
Skin gets warm,
Blood begins rushing through my veins.
My heart, starts pounding.
Consiouse thought,
Required to keep my breathing steady.
My body,
Reacting to your words,
Wet.
My brain,
Clouded,
unable to really think.
Reduced to being a toy,
Here for your pleasure.
All with just a few words
Cheyenne
Written by
Cheyenne
768
   Purab and ryn
Please log in to view and add comments on poems