Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jan 2019
It started off with some blues,
coz every panting night’s gotta start somewhere.
She took him by the hand and dragged his lanky limbs past the pub,
in the back alleys she read him poisonous poetry until they were both drooling.
She wrapped him up tightly in her furs,
he stopped breathing.
He was hers.
nja
Written by
nja
992
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems