Tiny moans escape after they close the river.
My brain melts at your touch.
My fingers sing to your skin.
Backseat chorus and your body is a symphony.
You're the muse I didn't ask for,
the ten digits to heaven.
My tongue is getting itchy
trying to find the words...
I'll be here all night.
Friday, June 2, 2023
Ten Digits to Heaven
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment