Community Publishing
You try to turn her on
to the wind.
But your corridor is
killed by the window.
Oh, Oh.
And dream of chiseling her
geologically timed-less moment.
To see rare gems
hopefully refract light.
Deserted to the pleasure
of her soulmate's astride.
She is in through outer course.
Loved through windows first.
| Average vote based on 1 review. |
|