Dec 2015
Your hands are fire,
sunstars singeing my skin with their touch,
you ignite me.
And sparks fly from our crossed screams.
Our *** is electric –
and I’m just praying the power doesn’t go out.
sunstars singeing my skin with their touch,
you ignite me.
And sparks fly from our crossed screams.
Our *** is electric –
and I’m just praying the power doesn’t go out.
8.9.15
(Buffalo; Syracuse; Boston)
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