Your sun bleached lips
carved into by rays and cigarette trails.
The smoke haunts the dark air,
and lingers to remind us of those few seconds that just went by.
I look up at your face,
beautiful in the sense that you are living.
We share the same air and lie on the same blades of grass.
May 31, 2013
May 31, 2013 at 6:16 AM UTC
Your sun bleached lips
carved into by rays and cigarette trails.
The smoke haunts the dark air,
and lingers to remind us of those few seconds that just went by.
I look up at your face,
beautiful in the sense that you are living.
We share the same air and lie on the same blades of grass.
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