When the lights keep flashing in the photo booth and I watch a star fade across the moon,
I take one last picture and instinctively wish for you.
ESTÁS LEYENDO
this is the dirty truth.
PoetryAs if rope could bind my wrists together so perfectly, so could this.
72
When the lights keep flashing in the photo booth and I watch a star fade across the moon,
I take one last picture and instinctively wish for you.
