You're a sinner, you say.
Yeah, so what? I'm a darn good one.
You blush, and I almost laugh.
Darling, you're so easy to make a mess of … Do you understand what you're looking for?
(The only sin I've committed is envy, but you can change that.)
No saint can save you now that your head is tilted back for me, so I drink and devour like I've been love-deprived. Let me vandalize you - this is what angels turn devil for.
Sin taints your soul as you claw at my skin and I watch your composure break - I watch as you lose yourself in the debauchery.
I kiss your eyelids, then the hollow of your throat, then your white knuckles: leave it to me.
Oh, how easily pure white stains.
I run my eyes down your disheveled frame and my fingers through your hair in the aftermath of it all while you draw ragged breaths, and I think I could get used to this.
Lifting a glass of water to your lips, I ask you, like I haven't before:
Do you understand the weight of what you seek?