the art of you

i remember the first time i had to hide it. the first time i fell in love, i fell in love with the art of you. and i’ve been high off it ever since.

you carry it so casually as if perfection is an afterthought and you have not the slightest clue my legs threaten to give way beneath me. i think that’s what makes me so . . . giddy. you have no idea how beautiful you really are and you have no idea what a girl like me would give to live in those eyes if for a day. and the desire? it’s relentless. like the moon moves the ocean, i fight the urge to sway with you while your feet are planted firmly chastising that lesser part of me aching to wrap myself around you. i respect all that you are too much to succumb to the urges of the natural woman. so here i am, silently, in complete amazement, admiring the art of you.

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