Her curves

I've never been here before, I see the road in her eyes and the miles call my name. 

She smirks at my severity, as I remind her how hot she is. 

She lets the water run, as I press her clothes onto the springboard that sprung us.

Neatly I lay her entire attire, and embrace her absence from them. 

I surrender to these pieces, that cover her when I'm not there, and sulk. 

She sweats me from a distance, and I cry for paradise in her embrace. 

Deliberately I dress her curves and become her shepherd, as she leads

my rope to the hanging tree.

Writing this leaves me empty of her.

This shit I write is the least I could do to own her yesterday, and have her own me forever...