Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
May 2015
cause even now,
as I breath with an ice in my spit.
And lips on my lips.
I still wonder,
just wonder...
What kind of snow
your gaze can throw.


The kind that stays stuck,
on blades of shivering grasses.
or, the kind...


that melts

when my eyes' teeth are open
enough
to release my tongue....
Lord keep your arm around my shoulders, and a hand over my mouth.
beautyshesmear
Written by
beautyshesmear  between humanism and word
(between humanism and word)   
421
   ---, ---, --- and Jonny Angel
Please log in to view and add comments on poems