Tattoo
ivy vines chose to tattoo on your vivid human skin. I did well, because from your ankles, which entangled me, I managed to braid your legs, and in that progress, I weave my strategy: I stretch out and reptaré for your thighs, be reborn in your belly and go through your belly button to hold . I'll stop, just to lick the wounds that cause you to scratch your back. Your shoulders, your arms and hands, finger by finger, I belong and I incrustaré nails. Persevere and reach it around your neck. He will whisper in my desire: to own your life, your breath can inject into my ink to breathe through your every pore. Your black eyes and your mouth red protest will resist, but I will not cease in my efforts.
By Marian Martin
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