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Would you be considerate enough to knock? My hair is the untamed mess it always is. I wear nothing but the mask of flavours. I play with the sleeves of someone else's shirt. With myself as I lay undone until dawn. With sheets that bury our vulnerable lies. Yearning slight tracing acknowledging the grace in my curves. Trails from my nape to satisfaction.Turn wet again. I'll play the sultry star. Be directed to disrobe the last of what covers my temptations. I'll be the naked canvas waiting to be painted upon. Moonlight kissing all there is left of my skin. Shut the blinds and trap myself in recklessness. Energise each and every cell of my whole. Write the most erotic literature ever written. Explore the lecherous soul that breeds within me I'll have the temerity to fulfil the wildest dreams I'll drive the passion to meet visions of darkness. Treat myself to the taste of touch. Breathe the smell of dirtier times. Surrender myself to pain in pleasure. I'll Relish what leaves before the light of the day extinguishes the fire of the night. Until the sky turns golden and affection turns a white and I turn black and this turns a shade of grey. Calling out. Thrashing my paradise. Wrecking my remains. Departing without the mention of words. Never masking our lust as love. And I'll wait again for dusk to arrive. I'll be raw. I'll be blue.I'll be kind. Would you be considerate enough to knock?
