You should have taken off your shirt

You stand there with triumph plastered on your face
As if being recognized for flesh is a dive you won’t dare
But darling, your body is as much poetry as your voice
And your bare chest hold as much promise as your throat
There is no shame in nakedness when there are lines
No words can ever communicate, only fingertips can read
There are stories I’d rather not you explain, let me
Take to each crevice, taste the sin off your skin

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