i miss the scent of summer
and the way you tell me to shut the fuck up.
show me the way to my redemption
to my unlacing.
in cicatrice-scars
i found
cicada.
cicada.
cicada.
cicada.
paint it pink.
paint me the colour of persuasion, perfection...or the poly-amorous lives of insects
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment