The magic of reflected love
I’ve drawn you,
Each stroke I thought “I’m lucky this is mine”.
Tracing your form,
Stopping to stare at your perfect lines.
My art a mere copy of what this world gave in you.
My work never giving justice no matter how I do.
I’ve drawn you,
I think to have you here in my hands.
Tracing your perfect form,
Wishing life into my creation as each stroke expands.
You led naked, open, a little afraid.
I stood nude, rampant, ready to take.
You took me, whole, thrust deep inside.
I fucked you, hard, nothing left to hide.
You gave all, taking, ravaged when done.
I took all, giving, filled full as you and I both cum.
If life were easy,
Would it be fun?
If not for the lows,
Would we feel we’d won?
If all was rosy,
If we didn’t clear the weeds.
Would the truth be known?
Would we find what we need?
If karma wasn’t a circle,
Would we just fall of life’s edge?
If we didn’t renew,
Would our souls be empty, dead?
You can’t hurt me.
I’ll not feel you’re pain.
I’m used to the knocks.
My soul’s been drained.
Look me in the eyes.
Up close, no thousand yard stare.
Feel my breath.
Sense the “I don’t fucking care!”
You can’t hurt me.
My wounds are my shield.
Slashed, cut deep.
But now I’m healed.
Look into my eyes.
See the strength.
Feel my power.
Know I won’t relent.