A Question for Whose Worth?

He smiles a smile so,

Eyes light up so.

Do you realise, once I was him.

The same body you touched,

running wild in moments.

Little tiny particles of time,

False perception all.

Particles of endless nights 

turning to evenings.

Yes my hair is his.

Freshly washed,

bittersweet touch of bettered today,

Magnifying in your name,

his name runs, It is mine.

The streamline look of his eyes,

black as coal, burning, searing away.

The brazen touch, turns molten

each desire.

Bringing out the jousting jinglers.

the one you deny is his.

His frame upon you, pushing

and pushing; biting your bosoms

it is mine.

The lips that graze, they are mine.

sliming their way to your warm

center, they are mine.

the filling need.

Everything he says, gives,

touches in mine.

and yet in the end

I am not his.