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beenjamminPoems
The funky smell of her breath in the morning sun Her mouths words warm as a smoking gun Her earlobes cold in the wind Hands sweat entwined Her heart no longer mine A night to feel the solo beat Rhythm of a lost soul in the street
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Dec 30, 2014
Dec 30, 2014 at 12:41 AM UTC
Early Wake
The funky smell of her breath in the morning sun Her mouths words warm as a smoking gun Her earlobes cold in the wind Hands sweat entwined Her heart no longer mine A night to feel the solo beat Rhythm of a lost soul in the street
#lostlove#amiss#seeya
Written by
beenjammin
Dec 30, 2014
Dec 30, 2014 at 12:41 AM UTC
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