The window panes are grey and trickling with raindrops. They race one another, falling into a downward spiral. Some meet halfway, kiss and drip quietly. My bones are held together with iced coffee and cigarettes. My skin is the color of summer gold and lust, glittering. My eyes are deep in wonder swimming with the face of a boy I can barely remember meeting. He's not a boy; a man in his element the son of the sea and his tattooed arms have clutched the remains of my ever growing heart and mind. This is not love No one can love me, I am rain and thunder, the daughter of the air and the sea. I am wind and glaring sunlight, the warrior of fire and dusk. But he came gliding in like a wolf in the night. His yellow eyes, those ******* eyes I see them in between my legs. Moaning your name is my only recluse My only refuge in the deepest, darkest most pornographic areas of this, multifaceted diamond of a mind.
I hate what you've done to me, imagining wanting needing your rough hands on my body.
Just **** me, **** me and use me while the thunder roars and the raindrops race each other and kiss me, bruise my petal lips with your Marlboro tinted ones until we're out of breath, until we're drained.