Your hands are weapons that know no mercy
You bring them to your face and draw a map
I trace the ridges, the bridges, the mountains
The clumps of skin that crisscross on your mouth
Jul 1, 2020
Jul 1, 2020 at 12:23 PM UTC
Your hands are weapons that know no mercy
You bring them to your face and draw a map
I trace the ridges, the bridges, the mountains
The clumps of skin that crisscross on your mouth