Today I went back to thinking about you, and as in our relationship my thoughts were not based on feelings of pink that you waited, were complicated desires of your body, your sex, you escurriéndote in indecipherable sounds of you naked in my mind. You
could you blame me for my lack of affection, but for me no problem, did not need to tell you that I loved, if only your body and pleasure than it got. Instead, I can criticize me more, I can blame that on my bedroom now only have to masturbate thinking of a skin and denied.
On those nights get your picture perfect to me, a slender body, barely caressed, sometimes so eager, sometimes nothing. Sometimes obscene and other immaculate. Before the semen comes out, I can imagine right for me, then you are a puppet for an instant prey to my wishes, I let you change the power to satisfy, to limit my pleasure to just one image, a souvenir of your body away.
Even after the farewell calls me honey, love like you guessed it was, but you had not found anyone else. Then come back again and again, tirelessly, with weighing yourself behind false relations created and believed; back because maybe inside you finally know what I wanted was your own body and that she loved him.
Then came the final, stupidly exhausted, but your picture is not clouded, not goodbye to me now come to claim their use in the most cruel possible. You, your body belongs to those who came and promised to love, I promised that in return you call love which you gave your body, all that I loved you.
could you blame me for my lack of affection, but for me no problem, did not need to tell you that I loved, if only your body and pleasure than it got. Instead, I can criticize me more, I can blame that on my bedroom now only have to masturbate thinking of a skin and denied.
On those nights get your picture perfect to me, a slender body, barely caressed, sometimes so eager, sometimes nothing. Sometimes obscene and other immaculate. Before the semen comes out, I can imagine right for me, then you are a puppet for an instant prey to my wishes, I let you change the power to satisfy, to limit my pleasure to just one image, a souvenir of your body away.
Even after the farewell calls me honey, love like you guessed it was, but you had not found anyone else. Then come back again and again, tirelessly, with weighing yourself behind false relations created and believed; back because maybe inside you finally know what I wanted was your own body and that she loved him.
Then came the final, stupidly exhausted, but your picture is not clouded, not goodbye to me now come to claim their use in the most cruel possible. You, your body belongs to those who came and promised to love, I promised that in return you call love which you gave your body, all that I loved you.
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