I swing into the future, into the past. My life is a pendulum: rocking, soothing, ups and downs. I hoped that you could swing it my way. It was a gravitation and as innocent as that can be, perhaps it meant as much as I feel it does.
You accused me of being a smooth talker. I only spoke the truth. Admittedly, I wish I could spit game like I did then but unfortunately; it was raw truth stifled by circumstance.
You painted your signature on my back, relieved and satisfied standing above me. A texture uncommon to me, a fleeting experience. Forced into accepting weakness, a position not familiar, a desired intercourse. Communication always leads to this, manipulation of fear, strategic force, accepting weakness, successful interaction.
Signature on the back... Young lady did you let someone tattoo their name on your back??
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