i want to be loved in the pawn shop blues kind of way.
the words marinate my being and store in my spine.
my collarbone holds the kisses of past lovers.
hipbones to hold the memory of dancing with you.
my body is a remake of you and the way you love me.
everybody knows how hard you love me, rough enough.
let people look at me in disgust, i see you in desire.
saved your number, got you in the palm of my hand.
red wine, thin line, i'm the biggest fan of your band.
YOU ARE READING
man machine
Poetryhe's a man, and he always will be leader of the pride, leather of most motions.
