In my rose garden,
your lips smack a canticle.
Keeeeeeep raaaaaaining oooonnnn myyyyy drooooought.
YOU ARE READING
PERCHED PARCHED BUTTERFLY
PoetryYour voice is the paint I take to the sky, splattering it all over, so they can all know you're nigh.
Soft and Wet
In my rose garden,
your lips smack a canticle.
Keeeeeeep raaaaaaining oooonnnn myyyyy drooooought.
