Aug 29, 2019
“I love the warmth Not the sun But the warmth from skin To lay on you is my favourite memory A distant memory It lingers and it calls for me every so often Too often I think Her skin her breasts her hair There is nothing that calls for me more than to retreat back to her Inside of her The memory is hazy And soft With shades of pink and red hues Her womb cradles every exposure I try to conceal Every disgrace I possess It promises love like no man ever I try to forget But I return To the warmth of my amniotic sac And there I rest In her loins her bones too and forget everything that isn’t you”
