Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Aug 2020
burning sensations on ****** tongues
( come on baby, light my fire! )
silky fingers slide into my throat and make me
purge a sweet haven for you.
( jesus christ, you’re a mess. )
your mother always said not to mess with fire
but here you are playing with my matches.
jay
Written by
jay  F/french riviera
(F/french riviera)   
49
   Colm and Eshwara Prasad
Please log in to view and add comments on poems