i want you
to think of me when your
crooked fingers slip under the waistband
of your favorite blue jeans;
to taste me when you press your lips
against the wine bottles we once
drank from under the crystalline moon;
to bleed when you see my deepest regrets
slit poetry in words of our love
onto your skin.
Apr 23, 2014
Apr 23, 2014 at 11:55 PM UTC
i want you
to think of me when your
crooked fingers slip under the waistband
of your favorite blue jeans;
to taste me when you press your lips
against the wine bottles we once
drank from under the crystalline moon;
to bleed when you see my deepest regrets
slit poetry in words of our love
onto your skin.
