I dream of your lips pressed against mine.With your hands exploring my body while you press me up against a wall.

I imagine you leaving me with hickeys, scratches and bite marks.
                                                          ­      
I think of cloths scattered on the floor and of you pressing me to you so there is no space between us.

I don't want flowers, chocolates and love.
                                                           ­     
I want lip biting, messy sheets and lust.

She wanders,
guided by her lost soul.
She spills arts,
coming from her pure heart;
She writes words no one can understand,
yet she speaks it like it was kept in her mind
for so long, just waiting for someone to find it.
She is a masterpiece of her own,
but she has a heart of stone.