Sleep drifts heavy,
a fog, a mist, a shroud,
yet You cling to my mind
Like the last breathe of a cigarette,
or the sweet taste of chocolate,
you linger,
a welcome reminder
of the sweetness that graces my mouth
You're there on my lips,
and you linger,
like the hot burn of cinnamon candy,
or the cold bite of Winter's kiss.
In every sweet taste,
or sharp bite,
you linger
Oct 15, 2014
Oct 15, 2014 at 11:33 PM UTC
Sleep drifts heavy,
a fog, a mist, a shroud,
yet You cling to my mind
Like the last breathe of a cigarette,
or the sweet taste of chocolate,
you linger,
a welcome reminder
of the sweetness that graces my mouth
You're there on my lips,
and you linger,
like the hot burn of cinnamon candy,
or the cold bite of Winter's kiss.
In every sweet taste,
or sharp bite,
you linger
