LegalEvil

An Untrained Touch I. My fingertips take a spill, covering your body, in your pockets they congeal trace with pressure, I watch the blood resurface daintily dangerous, and at the same time worth it II. My fingertips take a pinch, a rosy aftermath, almost similar to a singe the color of your lips, now stand adjacent subtly your body gives way, without misstatement III. My fingertips take a break, now I hold a firm grip, no longer I rake palmed, static, to try and catch your heart beats from beneath our chests tearing us apart IV. My palms break a sweat, it's amateur hour, and I accompany a vet this is not your