My body burns like a furnace with you
My heart yearns below the surface without you
The way your hair smells
The way your lips rest
The way we trace each others' ghosts
with our fingers;
yours so perfect and white
They make me anxious for your next words
Your next smile
Your next embrace
Feb 18, 2013
Feb 18, 2013 at 11:33 PM UTC
My body burns like a furnace with you
My heart yearns below the surface without you
The way your hair smells
The way your lips rest
The way we trace each others' ghosts
with our fingers;
yours so perfect and white
They make me anxious for your next words
Your next smile
Your next embrace
for Summer
