What is my canvas, @ which he likes to paint
He takes his fingertips and moves them along my body
He kisses his artwork because he likes the way i taste
He says my juices are sweet like nectar
I say they overflow like water falls every time he touches me
Our passion is uncontrollable whenever we’re in the same room
Within seconds our lips are locking and his fingers are doing a dance too
But we do have control, such hold whe we are intertwined
We can laugh for days @ the things we find
Under the sheets, the bed, on the living room floor
There are drops of honey here and there where we made our mess
And simply there’s a single hickey from everywhere that i was undressed
And i’ll never forget the massages
The touching. the teasing, the sucking, the pleasing
Eyes roll and bodies twist and that’s not even when i take a hit
Oh, when my body feels my artist paintbrush smoothing out my imperfections
I see colors of bright passion all these colors began to seep inside of me
I start to gasp “for what” uncertainty
For i belive i felt a climax beteween my knees
He doesn’t stop painting instead more colors appear
In my eyes i see purple, blue, and red
I look in his eyes and the same colors are there
It seems so innocent what we have done
Climaz after climax i forget he’s not the one
He’s friend who has taken the time
To see the best in me, the freak in me i couldn’t deny it, it’s already in me
It’s my destiny to sing his song and pump his beat
Because with every stroke of his paintbrush he purifies me
Mking me stronger yet weak @ the knees
After he’s done i’m not who i use to be
I’m not yet finished his “Canvas Masterpiece”
He still has not painted my heart @ which he holds the key
Posted By: Aundrea Nance
Friday, July 7th 2006 at 10:00AM
You can also
click
here to view all posts by this author...
