Everyday had been a spoonful of you
Now all the nights, weeks
An aftertaste, sweetly, almost
The white dots left in my vision
They haunt, they ring
Occasionally an after image
A bright salmon, an almost mermaid
Flicks it's silver in my eye
I'll turn, but as quick as a fly
The sweetness is gone
Left to die
Aug 6, 2016
Aug 6, 2016 at 4:05 AM UTC
Everyday had been a spoonful of you
Now all the nights, weeks
An aftertaste, sweetly, almost
The white dots left in my vision
They haunt, they ring
Occasionally an after image
A bright salmon, an almost mermaid
Flicks it's silver in my eye
I'll turn, but as quick as a fly
The sweetness is gone
Left to die
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