Smoke trails that never left the room
A soft sunlight through the two windows
So many memories crammed into that little room
The tiny kitchen where you cooked breakfast
With your tiny little shorts
You called me with your tiny little voice
Dorian Grey open on the bed
A cocktail of emotion on the counter
May 23, 2014
May 23, 2014 at 11:11 PM UTC
Smoke trails that never left the room
A soft sunlight through the two windows
So many memories crammed into that little room
The tiny kitchen where you cooked breakfast
With your tiny little shorts
You called me with your tiny little voice
Dorian Grey open on the bed
A cocktail of emotion on the counter
