The Kind Of Woman
I am the kind of woman who loves with eyes closed
I am the kind that loves with open thighs
And laughs with my eyes.
And who cares if I stand and open my legs like an easel
Eagerly waiting for a dripping pen to touch my canvas!
Why do you look at me as if your eyes are making a confession?
Why do you touch me when you know your mind struggles with confusion?
Are your feelings right or is it just an illusion?
And tell me, am I just a distraction,
When you need temporary satisfaction.