Poetry (words)

Sleep. 

Trace my soul with your fingertips, taste me on your twisted lips. You’re the venom between my hips. 

May your dreams be of the sweetest kind. Good night x 

Advertisements
Standard

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s