Soft, green vortex, beckoning
tender brush of eyelashes on skin
The lush hue of May looms
on butterfly wings
Fleeting as a sigh
and faint your fragrance
Of feline grace your footing
and elvenkind your posture
leaves
the wish to dive
beneath the surface
to touch more than skin
My mind is ablaze, with clumsy
step I attempt the dance
am bound to trip
to burn the moths, you beckon
A hot sensation
rolling down my throat
You fill this night to the brim
and I drink in full
Gazing into the eyes of my Absinthe.
Nov 12, 2019
Nov 12, 2019 at 7:40 AM UTC
Soft, green vortex, beckoning
tender brush of eyelashes on skin
The lush hue of May looms
on butterfly wings
Fleeting as a sigh
and faint your fragrance
Of feline grace your footing
and elvenkind your posture
leaves
the wish to dive
beneath the surface
to touch more than skin
My mind is ablaze, with clumsy
step I attempt the dance
am bound to trip
to burn the moths, you beckon
A hot sensation
rolling down my throat
You fill this night to the brim
and I drink in full
Gazing into the eyes of my Absinthe.
