I was never that girl that imagined a man on bended knee, nor saw myself as half of ‘we’.
Upon inquiry he told me more.
My heart soon his whore.
Only he was a she, ever so beautiful, looking up and blowing me.
My pulse was in a constant race.
The contradiction so sexy, of leather and lace.
(N)ever again, will I be that girl.
Pray for me; I do for him.
Feelings fleeting, empty meetings, and roller coaster rides.
The only one I’m prepared to take, is for and on his lovely face.



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