Your guilt trips over my thighs,
It covers you in modesty.
You cannot avert your eyes,
I cannot promise you honesty.
The red plays with my hair,
It curls it like summer heat.
With each moment we share
You clung tighter to your seat.
The guilt wraps your elbows
And ties them together.
I pluck petals from a white rose,
I mix them with feathers.
Your knees get trapped too
As you admire the scents.
My lips stain like a tattoo
And they burn like pure hell.
The guilt serves as your necktie
But you do not seek freedom.
Your instincts stay on standby.
Yet – you have no plans to free them.
The scarlet smoke surrounds us,
Your lungs struggle to breathe.
Your screams sound boundless
As your pupils drift off to sleep.
-JW
The Daily Writing of Jackie Wright 