stop smiling at me
when all you have in mind
is ******* me,
making me scream
on your bed.

stop staring at me
when you're thinking of
stripping me,
exhibiting my flesh
inch by tantalising inch.

it's better to touch me
because you'd like to know
what gold feels like
in the very palm
of your hands.

and it's better to hold me
because you believe that

the best things
never last a day
without slipping pieces of it
away from your grip.