Feb 2013
Snow Perches On The Brittle Barren Branches,
Flurries Dressing My Bare Smooth Skin,
Lips Parted Waiting To Speak--Give Me The Word,
I Shall Whisper In Any Language You Please,
My Heart Returning To The Bone Dry Soils,
Yet My Love Still Grows Tall As A Twisted Rose
Flurries Dressing My Bare Smooth Skin,
Lips Parted Waiting To Speak--Give Me The Word,
I Shall Whisper In Any Language You Please,
My Heart Returning To The Bone Dry Soils,
Yet My Love Still Grows Tall As A Twisted Rose
This Is Extremely Short For My Writings And To Clearify Myself This Is Not Supposed To Be "****" In Anyway (Valentines Day Makes Everybody Think So Pervy Like)
