Frozen images, in my iris,
Blow me off like you ISIS,
French fries, a French kiss,
Your main dish, I love this.
Boil my blood in your kettle,
Let's get it to flood the metal,
When the heat begins to settle,
I'll lick the depth of your petal.
Now, hands on the window pane,
Pleasure- It starts with some pain,
Only I, hold the keys to the chain,
Skin squeaking glass, love in rain.
"Squeaking Glass"
Drew Poetry
~Andy Mwalasha
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I will take you to the Atlantic coast in, Virginia, Will you be my 'Puella' my sweet, sweet Latina? Ride on the sand in a cherry... -
Gone are the days that you'd rest your head on my chest and smell the scent of my ripe goosebumps, those days that I would lose count o...
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Blew my nose with your facebook page. I had no choice, Dismissed your act on stage, uh what an appalling voice, You're dragged into th...
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