She was the sea and the moon
And she wanted someone
that craved to kiss her fire
And knew how to swim in
the stormy skies of her eyes
And she wanted someone
that craved to kiss her fire
And knew how to swim in
the stormy skies of her eyes
I miss those mornings where the house was loud and alive. The chattering of my children; the arguing, the laughing, the hurriedness of tryin...
No comments:
Post a Comment