| ||||||||||
| ||||||||||
| ||||||||||
| ||||||||||
| ||||||||||
|
| ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| >> Static Item >> Poetry >> Romance/Love >> ID #1812229 |
| |||||||||||||
|
how is it I know (I can't but I do) the way that you taste in the morning when streams of sunlight warmed by your skin settle in love's mortal dew how is it I know (I can't but I do) the way that your hand fits to mine or body to body heartbeats to one breathless beginning all over I wonder I wander some nights until dawn how is it I know (I can't but I do)
© Copyright 2011 Tornado Day (UN: tornadoday at Writing.Com).
All rights reserved.
Tornado Day has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work. |