The scripts on my sheets
Are made upon your blood
Every time my hand touches your skin
It reaches back again
These stains
Are made of your skin
Hands touch one another
Limbs drawn apart come closely together
The trails of love juice
That drips from my organization
Seeing it
Invites myself from you
Eye to eye
Closely as you flinched your eye
The thrust of my body
In harmony with yours,
The ink that made this scripts
Now forgotten,
It now stands blurry
'Cause the salt washed it away
By: Nicko Real
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