Through Her Skin.
In haughty, yet elegant tone, I say to you "do this to me,"
and I point at the arabesque
vines in the courtyard.
Found in jovial play, the knife
you gave my body with the wilted
roses from your hands.
Hands that pilfer! Hands that shake
as they cut into me.
Forever of redolence; the
thorns in my side, and your blue eyes,
so lustful, they still rip into me.
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