i'm drawin' little snow angels
on your frosty windows
you've got the A/C on high
and the radio's nothing but static
each raindrop thuds against my fingers
and my pulse, in venn
your misty exhalation brushes across my bare legs
little ghost kisses as you switch the dial from FM to off
i burrow into my cocoon of cotton and candy and cutting words
and flowers and elegance and dior flood the air
your lips, as red as my eyes, press thin to stop a litany of my name,
and a little golden shackle, glares at me.
on your frosty windows
you've got the A/C on high
and the radio's nothing but static
each raindrop thuds against my fingers
and my pulse, in venn
your misty exhalation brushes across my bare legs
little ghost kisses as you switch the dial from FM to off
i burrow into my cocoon of cotton and candy and cutting words
and flowers and elegance and dior flood the air
your lips, as red as my eyes, press thin to stop a litany of my name,
and a little golden shackle, glares at me.
No comments:
Post a Comment