Bold and blunt;
soft, and we romanticize the taste.
Tracing the curves -
valleys among mocha plains -
and passion reverberates
deep within the shade.
Innocence is corrupted
(we've all reached for forbidden fruit)
and it tastes as sweet as
You pass yourself off to be.
The draw of your baby blue eyes and
the pink of your naked lips
offer a look into what you used to be
or might have been.
But I suppose some sort of
saint
or
sin
came around and darkened the tint;
seductive and sultry,
and everybody wants a chance...
And I bet You know it.
Mar 3, 2016
Mar 3, 2016 at 11:40 AM UTC
Bold and blunt;
soft, and we romanticize the taste.
Tracing the curves -
valleys among mocha plains -
and passion reverberates
deep within the shade.
Innocence is corrupted
(we've all reached for forbidden fruit)
and it tastes as sweet as
You pass yourself off to be.
The draw of your baby blue eyes and
the pink of your naked lips
offer a look into what you used to be
or might have been.
But I suppose some sort of
saint
or
sin
came around and darkened the tint;
seductive and sultry,
and everybody wants a chance...
And I bet You know it.
