Naked lips, hands on skin on hips on
Touch.
A midnight drive into the valley of lust,
A road of lies promising intimacy,
A catharsis of repressed emotion,
A soulful salvation to satisfy and gratify.
Kiss the one you don't love,
Oh empty one.
Found the devil in innocence.
Made a man out of her son,
But no child is born adult.
YOU ARE READING
Ode
PoetryHere's an ode to the night he/she left; here's an ode to the anxiety you feel on a sunny morning and everything was supposed to be fine; here's an ode to the feelings left unexpressed; here's an ode to the words left unsaid, or perhaps what can...
