Saint Dirty Face

Touch me like sin, not salvation.

Don’t come gentle. Don’t come clean.

I don’t need to be redeemed—I need to be claimed.

Don’t kiss me like you’re afraid of God.

Kiss me like you already made peace with the consequences.

Get close enough that my better judgment packs a bag and leaves.

Slow enough that every second feels intentional.

This isn’t lust losing control—

this is control choosing to loosen.

Don’t make love to me.

Make a mistake you’d repeat sober.

Ruin me carefully.

Like you understand that wreckage can be elegant.

Like you know exactly where to press, where to pause,

where to let silence do the dirty work.

I don’t want sweet words.

I want your restraint shaking.

Let your hands hesitate just long enough to feel cruel.

Let your mouth promise nothing and take everything.

Leave marks no one else can see—but I’ll feel all damn week.

This isn’t about being saved.

It’s about being undone on purpose.

Touch me like sin.

Stay long enough to make it complicated.

Leave before it looks like love.

— Saint Dirty Face™

*Stay Dirty. Stay Dangerous.*™