he finishes me off with his sweet September lips
clipped on the wire; he holds me accountable
leaves me hanging- there's questions on my tongue
waiting for love to boomerang back.

YOU ARE READING
A Few Thousand Nights
Poetrya poetry about the ups and downs of life, love, and hardships
15
he finishes me off with his sweet September lips
clipped on the wire; he holds me accountable
leaves me hanging- there's questions on my tongue
waiting for love to boomerang back.