belle

like a belle muse, schemed and lured with the quill-pen,
ends and starts the dream painted with the guitar's echo
panicking our eyes and lips with the physique of passion,
happily snowed and wrapped with the flakes of our lust,
me ⇌ you, fusing in one desire, créme de la créme, love


Explore Popular Posts From This Blog

i'll come running

bad episode

there's something on your mind

no medicine like blues

beautiful people

salut, — allez, bisous

love is sweet

time does not change

you can't run