Drowning in fires,
swimming your storms
the kneel-to
bruising my bones.
Longing, wanton, needy
for hopeless devotion
that pierces my soul
with tangled kisses
on sweet lips
that bloom nectar
and honey.
Kiss me there.
-glassy-eyedgirl
Lofty platitudes or was it elevated truisms? Did it matter? Strip away all the familiar tunes. What’s left? It’s the same old song and da...
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