She backs a boat with the precision of a surgeon wielding a scalpel,
Slicing through skin that is warm, but impervious to the nervous system’s warning.
And she is oblivious to the effect that this has on my all too anaesthetised heart.
She backs a boat with the precision of a surgeon wielding a scalpel,
Slicing through skin that is warm, but impervious to the nervous system’s warning.
And she is oblivious to the effect that this has on my all too anaesthetised heart.
your sensual poet
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Blurring the lines between poetry and prose
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