It is September,
Summer is over, I’ve spent it all
With a fever pitch of
Mania,
And a long humid dream
Of murmurs
The season was made of
Whispers,
Secrets
Wrapping my legs around with a
Studied ****** precision
I knew the beautiful delicate thing
Was gone
And now I walked
Demolished
Summer, gone
Mar 17, 2015
Mar 17, 2015 at 4:09 PM UTC
It is September,
Summer is over, I’ve spent it all
With a fever pitch of
Mania,
And a long humid dream
Of murmurs
The season was made of
Whispers,
Secrets
Wrapping my legs around with a
Studied ****** precision
I knew the beautiful delicate thing
Was gone
And now I walked
Demolished
Summer, gone
