Do tell me, should I leave?
Your heart is full now, I have no purpose.
You rode me hard,
took everything you could,
swallowed me, daintily spitting out the excess.
You came to me battered and torn,
Feeling the dirge, we both mourned.
Passion has a way of leaving,
I could see it coming, gently retreating.
What i fear the most, when the kisses are