My breath is powdered with regret;
coated in the sugar I never said.
Though it was never spoken,
you could sense.
Imagine what vocal upset!
Imagine what we could have been!
Now we separate,
our passion empty and dead.
My tongue still tempting
that unworded perfect.
Feb 21, 2011
Feb 21, 2011 at 4:59 AM UTC
My breath is powdered with regret;
coated in the sugar I never said.
Though it was never spoken,
you could sense.
Imagine what vocal upset!
Imagine what we could have been!
Now we separate,
our passion empty and dead.
My tongue still tempting
that unworded perfect.
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