Skin , Shell of a turtle, a carapace, watches your duration of electric water, straight to your mind, pulls your vibration down in by degrees.
Your skin like a husk loaded with edges on corn smells sweet,
difficult to pull off at the base, decorations so delicate all over, the smell of earth.
Your arm was warm and lovely as the main tomato of summer in my ravenous hand.
Give me a chance to nibble into that delectable natural product, so sweet and tart
or on the other hand a mango stream of juice down my jawline.
I’m diverted, forgiving smells from your back
For what reason are so sweet yet so shrewd and serious?
No closure to contact makes my breathing quiet.
I feel upbeat… gracious god I’m damned.
In fact, it just kept going one day and you tore your skin from me once more.
At any rate you can’t take the memory from me.
Words can never eradicate activities like skin can never cover sentiments.
