The memory of your hands
Are burned into my skin
And oh, how I long to feel
The touch of them again
Your mouth is soft like silk
And the taste is that of sin
This little game that we play
Is one you’ll always win
You’ve burrowed into my mind
Like a parasite of the brain
The only coherent thought I have
Is how you say my name
I’ve been ruined beyond measure
And it’s you that I do blame
Loving you is a wicked desire
That I do not wish to tame
Sep 18, 2024
Sep 18, 2024 at 6:43 PM UTC
The memory of your hands
Are burned into my skin
And oh, how I long to feel
The touch of them again
Your mouth is soft like silk
And the taste is that of sin
This little game that we play
Is one you’ll always win
You’ve burrowed into my mind
Like a parasite of the brain
The only coherent thought I have
Is how you say my name
I’ve been ruined beyond measure
And it’s you that I do blame
Loving you is a wicked desire
That I do not wish to tame
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