Red, flushed lips and
green, lush eyes,
my pearly white teeth
and ripe, wet licks:
we're ready to strike
with soft, sweet bites,
the slow, great pressure
will break your ****
and you'll flow into me.
But soon, the gray will come and
I
will be lost in its fog,
and you,
well,
you better **** yourself
back in
and run
before you, too,
come near to drowning
on my chemical sadness.
It always happens soon after;
my burgundy heart
suckles on passion
and returns to its crimson ways,
and all I'll want to do
is play.
If you think you can wait.
Jun 8, 2015
Jun 8, 2015 at 12:07 PM UTC
Red, flushed lips and
green, lush eyes,
my pearly white teeth
and ripe, wet licks:
we're ready to strike
with soft, sweet bites,
the slow, great pressure
will break your ****
and you'll flow into me.
But soon, the gray will come and
I
will be lost in its fog,
and you,
well,
you better **** yourself
back in
and run
before you, too,
come near to drowning
on my chemical sadness.
It always happens soon after;
my burgundy heart
suckles on passion
and returns to its crimson ways,
and all I'll want to do
is play.
If you think you can wait.
