Honey, I just have to say,
you are the perfect
spokesman for the lust and love,
that combat themselves each day.
Such a vulgar little girl,
but those legs,
they open and greet,
like the most welcoming arms,
but they give a more tender embrace.
Curvy, and foul.
You are a special child,
with a mouth only a sailor could love,
and a demeanor that I cannot help to but,
Such an air of hostily,
matched and accentuated,
with an utter appreciation,
of loose femininity.
Hold your loose lips,
don't let them fly just yet,
Because believe me darling,
I worship those hips,
just as much as your lips,
and the things you do with both of them,
would make boys beg to let you make them men.
What was there before,
is still there now,
except it's been dunked headfirst
but refuses to drown.
What a web you weave,
or better yet we wove together,
I'm a footnote on your bedpost,
and you're still my magdeline ghost.
Together, We're unstoppable,
but all together regretable.
As for everyone else-
this is our own little world,
that exists between our physical commencement,
and you're detestable character arc,
I would give anything..
I want to be the stupid illustrations in your vacant little heart.