Jun 2017
and as you trace my face
with the back of your hand,
the earth stands still
as if carved from glass
and only your warmth on my skin
in the dead of the night
is worth everything
that has come to pass
with the back of your hand,
the earth stands still
as if carved from glass
and only your warmth on my skin
in the dead of the night
is worth everything
that has come to pass
