You’re a dream as if woven by Arachne herself
A blood moonlit stream, ever changing in color
Your heart sounds like hard rain on a tin roof
Crimson lips moistened by tears long reigned in
Blind words stumble out drunk off the moment
And before the light from Venus could get use to the depth of your eyes
I fell in love
With you
Jan 7, 2019
Jan 7, 2019 at 7:24 PM UTC
You’re a dream as if woven by Arachne herself
A blood moonlit stream, ever changing in color
Your heart sounds like hard rain on a tin roof
Crimson lips moistened by tears long reigned in
Blind words stumble out drunk off the moment
And before the light from Venus could get use to the depth of your eyes
I fell in love
With you
This one’s about the time I dropped my last cigarette in a puddle. I cried for three days. I can’t imagine anything worse.