Under The Sun Poem by red kyte

what to say, what to say.
his eyes can mold me like i'm clay.
his hands can touch me
and make me feel a certain way.
when that feeling appears inside of me.
its hard to control wut escapes tehe.
i like makeing noise, its fun to say oww.
maybe we should go wrestle in the grass now.
roll around a little, have a little rough play.
mm that would be fun.
maybe with the nice hot sun.
not that i wouldnt be hot already