\\Paint me up
Like a canvas, you paint on me.
Soft fingers, manicured nails.
Your hair brushed over my face.
Silky, flowy, fragrant.
Naked to our souls, we rest on the floor.
Bed's broken, the other night, like our virginity.
Curled eyelashes, shapely brows, sapphire eyes,
staring at me in dire passion, hungry.
Submissive elsewhere, just not on bed, you!
Paint me up with your colours,
with fifty shades of grey, or darker.
Sunshine on your skin,
roses on your lips,
deep seas and your eyes,
Are you the painter?
Or the painting yourself?
You might be the painter, to see
such beauty in a dark canvas like me.
But you are a painting, a masterpiece,
curving where the strokes have to.
Paint me up, with dirty strokes, filthy hues.
The painting muses over the painter, this once.
If I'm the night sky, fill me with starlight.
Untidy me, rip me off, spray some stardust.
Paint me up, with your lips, rosy and wet.
Reach out to every corner, with that vile tongue.
For I'm a canvas, craving for your touch.
Paint me up, with your wild curves, steeper.
Burn me up, with that wildfire in your eyes.
Rip me down, to your wildest dreams.
Tear me down, to your darkest grey.
Baby, I was a canvas, plain and dull.
That sunshine on your skin,
that rain on your lips,
you make me a rainbow,
with darker hues and tints.
Paint me up, with lust!
18 JAN AT 3:52