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

Good Sail Through My Allusive Stories

her world

hard-rock-lover

wolf

i'll come running

where I wait

les mots bleus

kiss me...

shh... breathe...

strange color blue