When the night's young
Your inner fire scorched the room
Tiptoeing as you crept closer to me
I pulled you close, and closer
And as you undo your clothes
I'll strip the innocence out of you
YOU ARE READING
Purple Hyacinth
Poetry[First of The "Hyacinth" Poetry Book Series] I once wished that we won't wither. But I'm sorry, I guess those flowers were us after all.
