Crème brûlée
and a clean white dress.
Feed me from your finger -
they called us Silver-Plated:
an open locket,
like angel wings.
Laughter;
the melting point of wax
means nothing to us.
Sep 21, 2011
Sep 21, 2011 at 5:05 AM UTC
Crème brûlée
and a clean white dress.
Feed me from your finger -
they called us Silver-Plated:
an open locket,
like angel wings.
Laughter;
the melting point of wax
means nothing to us.
