by Azreal Darkchyld ©
Teathered dreams and leather bound visions
Sweat covered intent upon silk laden decisions
All for the prizes that are your lips
Breath like
water over your skin
Moans that call the wants of men
All for the prizes that are your lips
Hopes and
whips studded with silver, mounted with
gold
A heat upon your cheeks if you do what you're told
There is noone else for to Me you are sold
All for the prizes that are your lips
Fires of
passions and winds of love
Burning from My heart to yours above
All for the prizes that are your lips
And a simple breathe as I wait
Standing quietly at the college gate
All....
for the prizes....
That are...
Your lips...