you trace shapes across my skin;
shoulder blades of canvas,
the small of my back your Starry Night--
oh yes, I overheard that
perfect stars burn.
but it might be alright,
getting singed.
Sep 21, 2012
Sep 21, 2012 at 1:14 AM UTC
you trace shapes across my skin;
shoulder blades of canvas,
the small of my back your Starry Night--
oh yes, I overheard that
perfect stars burn.
but it might be alright,
getting singed.