Gunmetal Love Letters

You must have held me closely lastnite, sweet John, 

those hands, those roaming hands, touching me in all the places 
a lover needs to touch.
I woke up thinking of you, so unbelievably wet that I had to change. You made a mess of me; a beautiful mess. 
I didn't want to get up, but just revel in the closeness of 'us' as my husband kisses me in all the places you cannot.

It rains today, not quite light, not quite dark, but somewhere in between. We dance around blurred edges, gunmetal gray clouds, a reflection of my pathetic blu eyes. 

Days like this are made for whores and men like you, made for those who thrive 
in this chiaroscuro moondance.
We glide upon our liquid nudity 
as that thin line between the blacks and the whites becomes invisible in the mist of a weeping sky. 

I want to impart the riffs of the rain from my guitar like silver bullets, I want to paint hardcore sex on my canvas in the shade of a sunset gallows, I want to kiss you so hard it hurts both of us and let that be reason enough to cry as my husband fucks me like the whore that you want me to be.
God bless sinners like us!
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