kiss me. i just can't survive our lips drying in solitude. let them meet, let them share the agony you and i hide in despair.
hold me close. close enough that our skin precipitates in the symphony. don't draw a line in our intimacy. keep your politics away from our reign.
touch me. don't leave a corner unexplored. don't be shy to enter any room that i made. scratch the walls if you feel enough tempting.
taste me. between all these days of longing, the tropic of cancer which passes through my neck has grown ample amount of spices for you to feast on. show me you're famished for my presence.
slap me. harder. the masochist in me has seen enough barbed wire around my soul that now i want you to tear me apart until i beg you to stop.
eat me, till i bleed. i know a cannibal that lingers on my body every time i walk around you wearing nothing but my own scent. don't be afraid of crossing the line.
fuck me better than my life. i want demons to lurk on our windows hearing the screams turning into ultrasonic for human ears to bear.
being a young teacher/professor, i often come up with instances where i see students not respecting their own image. they deliberately do such stunts in class where the other person can clearly see the ill heartedness they pursue.
i have this thing where i try to make people believe in their potential & what i can see in their capabilities. i sometimes get rude, get vocal, & i scold them if i don't see them investing their energy in themselves or if i see them calling themselves weak. i always start with a subtle way to tell them to grow out of their shell, & if i'm putting my energy out there for their betterment, it means they mean something to me.
i'm gonna worship every inch of you babe but have you seen that there's a favourite spot in the temple or church or wherever you're worshiping. for me that spot will be your lips.