the picture that has no color

The way she and her have shaped me

I get hyper aware of my surroundings

she makes me nervous

every move I make, she and her, i

know they are watching me

how I watch you and her

her voice is almost musical, I will paint she and her vibrantly

the picture that has no color

No form

No shape

Just words, bedroom after bedroom corridors of the mind,

her skin brushes past mine

Feeling her curves and body with my hands,

Soft passion that turns into burning lust

firm grip grasp pulled, arms holds back- clothes ripped of, hard grip of my past.

image Elliot sailor

Admin of nine