Dirty Love

Original Poetry

Let me touch your face, follow the outlines of wrinkles still yet to form.
I’ll trace my name over your heart so when death reaches us, we won’t be apart.
Let me whisper a thousand love stories in your ear
that would outrage our grandparents.
Pretty whore.
I’ll memorise your body like the favourite book you are to me,
so exciting, thrilling, tempting.
Dirty love.
The best kind.

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