I cannot breathe
past the dust that coats
my tongue, a grey sweet reminder
that you've not visited for ages,
its been eternity since
your lips rested on mine
(I'm an antique;
restore me)
YOU ARE READING
Roses, Cherry Vodka & Her Perfume
PoetryA collection of (almost) love poetry inspired by my beautiful and exotic princess of a muse. (Please please please read and leave comments, I need some critics because I wanna give this to her as a present)
