Flying so high on thievery wings- You forgo ownership- As a emotionally placid- Intoxicated materialism- Until you softly land on the ground- Then you count it all- You’ve stolen the core of her innocence- The seed, which blossoms- From the purist alliance of youth and ignorance- You have drank her will- And the resurging vibrancy you’ve beckoned- Comes at the cost of tossing her aside- And until the next one is wooed to your side- -there is no room for guilt- On thievery wings- Poison is slipped in each drink- And wild hearts- Stroke the stifled and ordinary- Muses become you’re very fingertips- With one stroke she cums swift and silently- With another she begs for more- She said she wanted to loose herself- And leave behind- What she never missed anyway- -there is no room for guilt- Thievery tongues curling around her breast- Sweetness dripping on her body- Sweet tasting her hidden splinters- Her pressed up against the wall pain- I’m the dildo souvenir- Inside- Strung out- But still pushing- Till there’s no more room for guilt-Birth sign: Libra
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