His kisses were tattoos
Engraved in my skin
Bleeding ink from his lips
That kissed me like a needle
And it felt so good.
He kissed me places no man had even seen before
And left his marks on my skin.
I told him “Kiss me pink”
But his ink was only black.
His eyes, they were brown
And his skin, was mahogany
But he kissed me black
And that would have been fine
Because I longed for those tattoo kisses
But the last place he kissed was my heart
And we all know black hearts are no place to find love.
