Kiss where ink and flesh align,
carved to summon touch.
Skip the space between my lips,
spewing oaths of love.
You feed me want— then starve me dry.
A feast of glances,
content to give— but never take what’s mine.
I ache to make you crave my touch,
to need me as I need you, just
let me be your hunger—
not your haunt.
I can read you raw,
Trace your ritual of ruin,
Embrace decay in every tease,
Slip beneath your skin with a velvet ease.
My soul remembers every lie—
when you devoured
what was once mine.
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