moving with you, I'm invincible;
yet the most tender I'll ever be.
(when youâre combing your fingers through my hair i can forget that most peopleâs first impression of me is to steep in trepidation. all bark all bite when weâre holding hands in a street, but lanky lapdog on the lounge. youâre underestimated. my secret spitfire, to whom iâm never on my knees in supplication; only to offer - whatâs mine is yours. pain, pleasure, power. we share.)





















