Pens fall from lips
quietly inside
a rush
of
dusty mouths laid
across the oceans piano.
The blood stricken
fruit of my heart
drips wine into
a salt rimmed glass.
Truth stained in his
wide, fragile, grin.
Feb 6, 2013
Feb 6, 2013 at 3:41 PM UTC
Pens fall from lips
quietly inside
a rush
of
dusty mouths laid
across the oceans piano.
The blood stricken
fruit of my heart
drips wine into
a salt rimmed glass.
Truth stained in his
wide, fragile, grin.
