Don't want your bullshit.
Just want your sexuality.
Don't want excuses.
Write me your poetry in motion.
Write it just for me.
And sign it with a kiss.
Just take any line.
Comfort me with apples.
For I am sick of love.
His left hand is under my head.
And his right hand...
Doth embrace me.
K.B
Just want your sexuality.
Don't want excuses.
Write me your poetry in motion.
Write it just for me.
And sign it with a kiss.
Just take any line.
Comfort me with apples.
For I am sick of love.
His left hand is under my head.
And his right hand...
Doth embrace me.
K.B
xinh:
Coucou !
iv:
) Coucou
) Coucou