Calloused hands like sandpaper on soft skin, sunshine spillingafter buckets of pouring rain.
Some days I feel shreddedand it’s not about abs,but more about selfa grated version of a wholeflecked…
I love you when our bodies awakento the silky smoothness of spring. I love you…
Time passes and passesAnd methodicallyI pick up the piecesNo jury, no…