Tattooed Grace

The girl is covered
from head to toe
in her professional clothes.
Truly, no one knows
she has this little battle
raging on inside.
A dragon is defending
her Geisha girl,
both stretched across
her polished shoulders.
There’s a serpent twisting down
the side of her rib cage so
when she breathes,
her snake flexes too.
Most times these things
are way too private
to be seen,
unless of course
she’s atop you
in one of her heavy sessions.
Grace had to make sure
her drawings were tattooed
under her professional clothes.
She didn’t want the others to see
she has this other side
where dark colors blend and bleed
into darkness and pain.
I’ve been lucky enough,
I suppose,
to have seen her private parts.
Grace!
Who did you get to put that there?
She loves that funny face
the jealous insecurity of mine.
She laughs,
watching me struggle
thinking someone had their hands
pretty much all over her.
There are even pretty words,
just under her bra-line.
These contrasting beauty marks
are meant to be traced.
I love this girl,
affection is all over her body
down the length of her spine
following her high heels.
I can’t help but stare
at her routine
when she undresses
with her back to me.
Her long feline frame
she does this high stretch
both arms high over head
the cupped curve of her breasts
are there on the edge
she covers when she turns.
I turn and divert eyes
pretending to look
at something on the other side
of her love-strewn room
all soft and sensual.
It’s no use really,
Grace already knows
her voyeur inside
loves when eyes secretly hide.
She knows she’s a beauty source
somethings, she knows she can’t
so easily hide
like her body
of tattoos.
She usually ends the routine
naked, pressed super close
her hands tucked inside.
I squeeze with both arms
keeping her warm
keeping here loved.

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