Dame Hedgie


Mold

I see you and I want to mold you into the man of my dreams.
I will be the artist and you my beautiful clay.
So raw and rough around the edges,
Then again, so used and worn and dull.

I love the thought of getting inside of you.
I want to pour my rhythm over you.
Heart beat, song beat, spirit beat,
Gentle sways to contour your form with mine.

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