She’s a sun-kissed
Yellow peach—
Strolling on
Beach Boulevard
with a
smooth rhythm to
her feet.
Honey in her cheeks,
Tender when she speaks
and
the gloss on her
lips glisten
like
polished rubies.
She’s sweet like
Hennessy
with cranberry.
Warm skin
the color of chai tea.
The moon melts
at the
sight of
my muse.
How could one refuse her?
She’s
Sunday afternoons
listening to the
blues.
Mar 3, 2025
Mar 3, 2025 at 8:30 PM UTC
She’s a sun-kissed
Yellow peach—
Strolling on
Beach Boulevard
with a
smooth rhythm to
her feet.
Honey in her cheeks,
Tender when she speaks
and
the gloss on her
lips glisten
like
polished rubies.
She’s sweet like
Hennessy
with cranberry.
Warm skin
the color of chai tea.
The moon melts
at the
sight of
my muse.
How could one refuse her?
She’s
Sunday afternoons
listening to the
blues.