Dylan plays softly,
As my ink stained hands
Map your milk white hips.
And we could play this game
Of push and pull
For hours.
I rake my night hands
Down your ivory spine,
Find myself Enthralled with
The soft plains of Your back
And we’ve been playing this game
Of push and pull
For hours.
I pull my blackened fingers
Through your silk strands
And I’m Caught,
Lost in
The soft moonlight of your hair
And we’ve been playing this game
Of push and pull
For hours.
I trace the structure
Of your face with my
Ink
Black
Hands.
Hoping not to ruin the
Pale moonlight it radiates.
Praying to keep your
Silver Skin
Pure.
And we’ve been playing this game
Of push and pull
For hours.
And your skin is still
Light,
Your hips still white,
Spine; Ivory
Your hair, still moonlight.
And I’m in awe,
Again, again, again.