Lips
The sun draws closer
as it turns,
her eyes to melt me
into embers,
her passion swelling
leaves no cinders,
her lips leave petal prints
as my skin burns.
as it turns,
her eyes to melt me
into embers,
her passion swelling
leaves no cinders,
her lips leave petal prints
as my skin burns.
Please login or register
You must be logged in or register a new account in order to
Login or Registerleave comments/feedback and rate this poem.