They were wrapped up within one another
Like tangled bits of twine;
Two threads stitching a single lover;
“I’m yours, and you’re mine.”
They embraced hard and fast,
Desperately trying to get closer.
With bed-sheets stained by nights of past;
Pillow-talk echoing “No, sir.”
For sleeping came with sublime ease;
They fit together like a rhyme.
And they both ink’d moments just like these
As they drifted into time.
(Sketch done by the immensely talented, outrageously artistic, insurmountably poetic, and, to be frank, drop-dead-sexy/best sex of my life, Brenna Lopes, IG: freshcantalopes)