Am I allowed to look at her like that?
Could it be wrong, when she's just so nice to look at?
She smells like lemongrass and sleep.
She tastes like apple juice and peach.
You would find her on a polaroid picture.
And she, means everything to me.
I'd never tell.
No, I'd never said a word.
And oh, it aches.
But it feels oddly good to hurt.
She smells like lemongrass and sleep.
She tastes like apple juice and peach.
You would find her on a polaroid picture.
And she, means everything to me.
And I'll be okay admiring from afar.
Cause even when she's next to me we could not be more far apart.
Cause she tastes like birthday cake and storytime and fall.
But to her, I taste of nothing at all.
She smells like lemongrass and sleep.
She tastes like apple juice and peach.
You would find her on a polaroid picture.
And she, means everything to me.
Yes, she, means everything to me.
⛈
-She🎶
Dodie Clark
ESTÁS LEYENDO
La melancólica muerte de mi alma
Non-FictionY yo me cubro, yo me envuelvo, me mezo en mi nostalgia preferida, me abrazo a la almohada y lloro, me avergüenzo de mi edad y no comprendo por qué, tan de repente, ya no soy una niña.. A. Pizarnik ☾
