from the burning pits
of my rage,
i detach myself
from the broken wine
glass that rests
in between her lips.
oh, to be draped against them as
i thirst for the knowledge,
of the reason that every fire
burns within her.
- zmh
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drops of champagne
Poetrydrops of champagne stains my skin, as memories of your lips burn with each passing sip as i float down to hell with you. DISCLAIMER: if you see any grammar mistakes, i do apologize but also let me know so that i am able to fix them as soon as pos...
