My Artistry Is You

Our Mixed Box


Every murky night I just envisage you
clenching me tightly from behind.

I feel your whiff over me
and your hands fondling my locks.

I am blushing with your love shower
And painted red in your delight.

Suddenly my phone rings and then I apprehend that it just my artistry.

It is you, I don’t how you know that I am missing you.
I deluge in you and it is another night of endless talks.

View original post


Categories: Featured

Reply At Your Own Risk. Leave The Dumbfuckery At The Door.

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s