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I apologize, but the liquid ran clear, as it lacked the taste of beer. I turned the bottle's end into the air, and held it until I couldn't bare. My mouth was marinated in liquor, my dear. My tongue was saturated in Fireball. Ever since, that unfaithful night, my tongue must feel like a flame of dishonesty against your flowering rosebud; since, it drunkenly 'ate' up it's own spoken promise in faithfulness. For now, it lays in a bath full of salvia coded guilt with forgiveness standing at the tip; in it's want to lovingly still explore you.
0
Jan 14, 2014
Jan 14, 2014 at 12:29 AM UTC
Lingua
I apologize, but the liquid ran clear, as it lacked the taste of beer. I turned the bottle's end into the air, and held it until I couldn't bare. My mouth was marinated in liquor, my dear. My tongue was saturated in Fireball. Ever since, that unfaithful night, my tongue must feel like a flame of dishonesty against your flowering rosebud; since, it drunkenly 'ate' up it's own spoken promise in faithfulness. For now, it lays in a bath full of salvia coded guilt with forgiveness standing at the tip; in it's want to lovingly still explore you.
Hiylee
Written by
American
Jan 14, 2014
Jan 14, 2014 at 12:29 AM UTC
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