You are the smell before the rain,
The blood rushing through my veins.
You're the late night call with no kiss goodnight,
The wings upon which my mind takes flight.
You are the summer breeze dancing on my skin,
The pandemonium: manic uproar and din.
You're the hands slapping beats on a dark steering wheel,
The twangy whirring of an old fishing reel.
Jun 3, 2014
Jun 3, 2014 at 12:22 AM UTC
You are the smell before the rain,
The blood rushing through my veins.
You're the late night call with no kiss goodnight,
The wings upon which my mind takes flight.
You are the summer breeze dancing on my skin,
The pandemonium: manic uproar and din.
You're the hands slapping beats on a dark steering wheel,
The twangy whirring of an old fishing reel.
You are hers.
