| for j brutal touch that lays upon me like a feather I am careful to call his name, fearful that my breath will send him away like the caress that he is brutal in the way he wrecks my passions and gentle like the man I know him to be |
| stronger/shorter it is a crime against my passions to let a man fall from hands that mean to cradle and carry past what seems to be a short wick on our candle |
| empty lines lead me to passion where I know I should reside |
| public fall Laugh in the face of embarassment so your groans can be mistaken for giggles and your blush as rampant humor that has captured your face |
| charcoal strength I try to hold the bits of memories in my hand and squeeze them into a whole a diamond in the rough a gem to replace your presence a rock to fill your absence |
| sensory pain is a pleasure that reminds me of how to feel and regret, touch and possess the fleeting moment that is my addiction to you |
| Expensive Street His touch laid wrinkles upon my skin like a steady signature that assigned my fate Free boy, can you pay the price for your pleasure? I think it loud, but never say it proud that my body is a table upon which you lay your coins So take a turn and pull my bar gamble for my lust and hope for my spilling pleasure It's just a game, and I have no shame to declare: Free boy, buy some pleasure from my pain? |
| here I lay, and here I stay, hold me like a crime |