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Av

MY LIPS ARE THE WOMBS OF HER BRUISES

I summon the maroon-drawn Shadows to rise like the kiss conjured, Plum flame ghosts of her veins... so she may wear the violet and teal-haloed Shadows of my teeth, while I decorate and Adorn her breasts with the brutal and Faded flower leis of my mouth... watching them appear like wine-stained apparitions on the dove-colored lace for skin... slowly painting her torso in beautiful lip-scrawled contusions and blemishes like blossoms of blood flowers that trail like cheetah print graffiti on her navel...rippling in purple and sweetly aching calligraphy...suculent suction of blackberry tracks on her hips like lipstick on a wine glass...spreading further like deep and lavender lithograph pedals pressed like tender amethyst between the plush pages of my lips strewn and Vines of grape hewed tattoos on the soft and Porcelain-souled  canvas of her thighs the catalog the travels of my kiss..look my love and see all the parts of you my mouth has claimed...as thier own.