Jun 2019
I smell petrichor,
as dew lands on grass.
I smell cinnamon
on the bristling autumn leaves.
I smell copper
as I ***** my finger
on a crippled rose.
What a blend,
such pleasan aromas.
as dew lands on grass.
I smell cinnamon
on the bristling autumn leaves.
I smell copper
as I ***** my finger
on a crippled rose.
What a blend,
such pleasan aromas.
