In the Artist's Studio
Colors from your canvases
drip from swollen nipples of breasts
lightly touched by my palms.
And the smudged lipstick from your lips
represents art,
avant-garde you,
as you impose yourself on me naked.
With tangled-disheveled hair,
wildly intertwining fingers
with mine, already sinful,
from your nipples
that release a spectrum of colors
from your paintings,
and I... with them, I sketch verses
on your back...
You tickle me with an artist's brush...
Oh, is this just a moment
and magic in your studio
whisper to me, I beg of you,
while I tremble and you drive me crazy!
Marko Milojević–Maskirani