He is all lines and sharp angles
I am soft curves and extra padding
But it doesn't matter so much
When he's holding my hand
Intertwined and all jumbled up,
Or when he's kissing me
Closed eyes and only nerves
Igniting
How strange to think the knife
Could learn to love the butter
Aug 27, 2016
Aug 27, 2016 at 7:49 AM UTC
He is all lines and sharp angles
I am soft curves and extra padding
But it doesn't matter so much
When he's holding my hand
Intertwined and all jumbled up,
Or when he's kissing me
Closed eyes and only nerves
Igniting
How strange to think the knife
Could learn to love the butter
Request permission to use this poem