A Work of Art
People sometimes look down on you for the little marks. The ones of vanilla ownership. The dark bruise on your neck that shows you were in His arms and maybe His bed. They disapprove of those smallest of marks. If only they knew. How badly I want them to cringe when they see what lies beneath my modest clothes- the lashes and dark patterns that paint my skin as skillfully as the artist with his brush. Our Artists have a deeper passion with their tools and a deeper love with the canvas He/She molds and paints. How much I yearn to watch their eyes widen in confusion of the masterpiece He has created upon me. For them to know how much of a good girl I am for Him, allowing him to complete the most beautiful work. Proud of the beauty He has brought out of me and onto my pale canvas.

















