[ icecream yeah ]A Poem by winter;lyra
icecream yeah
as if i had it in my grasp i'd be honest and be without still about what she meant when she took her face off her grave (well, what a sunny grave) wet my fingers with your rays melt and bowed down disembowelled to the last drop lastly vanilla drowned i'd be a mound of your wet dreams and you the mill to my teenage limbs © 2019 winter;lyra |
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Added on March 14, 2019 Last Updated on March 14, 2019 Author
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