her eyes;
coffee beans dipped in caramel before roasting.
honey drips from her mouth as her melodies travel through my body.
i let her call herself my master,
as it brings a funny smile to her face.
but i'm no servant to her,
and neither is she of mine.
we both belong to each other,
as i am hers,
and she is mine.
YOU ARE READING
𝗣𝗼𝗲𝘁 𝗠𝗲 𝗔 𝗣𝗼𝗲𝗺
Poetrya collection of letters, poems, and short stories from deep within, a little addiction with it too; welcome to the emotions of the awkward teenage time we all once had.
