A dash of spluttered kisses
come raining down on your neck.
Buried in your sandy hair,
shining lips in the candlelight.
I don't speak your language,
you barely speak mine,
Ik wil jij.
Mar 5, 2015
Mar 5, 2015 at 12:05 PM UTC
A dash of spluttered kisses
come raining down on your neck.
Buried in your sandy hair,
shining lips in the candlelight.
I don't speak your language,
you barely speak mine,
Ik wil jij.
