The anticipation of tasting you on my tongue is tantalizing all of my neurons
Firing my synapses sharply while I wait for you to come to me, hungrily
I'm not used to feeling so fixated on a fixture in space, not one with a face
But your fingers make music, mine make words, so lets get together and
burn, burn, burn.
Mar 9, 2014
Mar 9, 2014 at 11:42 PM UTC
The anticipation of tasting you on my tongue is tantalizing all of my neurons
Firing my synapses sharply while I wait for you to come to me, hungrily
I'm not used to feeling so fixated on a fixture in space, not one with a face
But your fingers make music, mine make words, so lets get together and
burn, burn, burn.
Amara Pendergraft 2014
I've met someone.
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