You are so delicious, sexual, awakening, and unlawful for my self image.
"A professional? How can you begin to point?"
Every ounce of me is levitating within myself for I feel no sin.
You sire claim such innocence, yet it is you that left such a deep abrassion. I'll take whatever you're giving... which is never enough.
You call yourself a writer, yet you leave such pauses announced. You call yourself a poet, but your lyrics have no rhythm. If it is true that I am everything that you want to be: Forget to inhale.
Left foot first. Eyeliner smudges excused. Close your eyes, D. West... and balance, awaken, forgive, but leave a memorable impression.
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