I wish to be her.
I want to be the sweet epithet that drips down the back of his throat as he picks pink petals.
That rolls from his tongue to the sky.
I want to watch from the clouds as he speaks of me.
She.
To be her is to be immortal, divine.
Jul 18, 2020
Jul 18, 2020 at 12:25 AM UTC
I wish to be her.
I want to be the sweet epithet that drips down the back of his throat as he picks pink petals.
That rolls from his tongue to the sky.
I want to watch from the clouds as he speaks of me.
She.
To be her is to be immortal, divine.