I learned to roll my hips as if they were plates starting an earthquake.
I knew how to throw my head back as if my hair were whips of fire.
I knew how to use my tongue like venom in an open wound, so enticing. Awakening a burning desire that could give you a near-death experience.
YOU ARE READING
Of Citrus, Honey, and Melancholy ● Poetry ●
Poetry❝Part into me like an orange and make me spill over your fingertips.❞ ------------------------ An original collection of poetry and raw confessions about queer sexuality and pain. Please read at your own discrimination.
