I made love on a bed of rose petals. Crushed and mixed with sweat, they stained the sheets crimson – falsely proclaiming a virginity that wasn’t mine.
I made love on a bed of rose petals. Crushed and mixed with sweat, they stained the sheets crimson – falsely proclaiming a virginity that wasn’t mine.
This one has caught me off guard, although I wasn’t guarding anything really.
It’s a nice piece of poetry.
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