Do you know those moments when
the sunlight soaks up your skin and
you're eleven again and you feel some
sort of goodness entering you, a midday halo,
sleepy afternoons, and there's this crawling
feeling lighting up your entire body whispering
it's going to be a hell of a good day, a hell of a good year,
and it's going to stay this way.
YOU ARE READING
Acoustic Memories
Puisipoetry burns through our veins like it did in yours. for what is poetry except inked music? Highest Ranking : #86 POE
