If Your Favorite Poet Were MeA Story by richy
My eyes closed to smell your breath, your neck, your hair.
I close my eyes every time you bite my arms, my lips, my chest. I close my eyes to what I don't want to miss. My mouth and hands lack manners. You talk then I talk. You talk then I touch. When you talk is when I should keep my eyes shut. My ears hear everything you say, your soft moans, your lovey and crazy. I hear your ideas and aspirations. They resonate and replay In my ears. I think In rhyme so my responses are always delayed. I understand your reservations on giving It up to me, In the place your parents sleep. I don't know why you wont make love to me. You say I'm narcissistic. I guess I'm having an out of body experience.
© 2016 richyFeatured Review
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