There's Shú for like a temple
the smallest detail
is a so deadly attraction
over the surfaces
Nails are slithering over me
so very, very sharp
to leave scratches in their
footsteps over me
It is all like for the wetness
in her armpits to taste,
the scent of sweat lingers
through our spine.
For like into a grasping cunt
is the porcelaine
it can hardly breathe out
but to inhale it.
To there die in our throat
as nipples to knees
yet it is only for a bite
and it is no more.
So whom to trust then
to swallow or spit
or play with it on nails
and then lick it off,
Then as lips to our hands
to kiss both ways
it is all for an elegance
to both flavours. |