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This Isn't about Me
This Isn't about Me
Sometimes you need to lay down in front of me on the couch and let me hold you.
We lay round with a pillow, and have one on top of that one so I can see over you.
As the show unwinds, I spoon my way a body depth and slip my hand beneath your shorts and find control of something hot and sweet.
And tender take your mind off everything that stakes its claim on every thought you have.
When your heated pant turns then so wet verbose that languages seem far, and something like a purring cat becomes a motor car, I spin so slowly to your back the last resistant thought and spread your legs with all clothes shed and taste your castle's mote drawn bead now twinkled as a star.
So when your breath alleviates its place among leaves and holding shook and passion laps the skies above the trees, you'll know it's not about me, that movies have been made, but merely here to fondle fount with me between your knees.
Sometimes you need to lay down in front of me on the couch and let me hold you.
We lay round with a pillow, and have one on top of that one so I can see over you.
As the show unwinds, I spoon my way a body depth and slip my hand beneath your shorts and find control of something hot and sweet.
And tender take your mind off everything that stakes its claim on every thought you have.
When your heated pant turns then so wet verbose that languages seem far, and something like a purring cat becomes a motor car, I spin so slowly to your back the last resistant thought and spread your legs with all clothes shed and taste your castle's mote drawn bead now twinkled as a star.
So when your breath alleviates its place among leaves and holding shook and passion laps the skies above the trees, you'll know it's not about me, that movies have been made, but merely here to fondle fount with me between your knees.
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