Library
Blue
Blue
1 min
33
16th January 2020
He smelled of crimson
His voice a raging classic
Amplified his curbed humanity
While she talked of holiday gimmick
His smile cold and siren
And tastes like winter cream
She dived into his lunar soul of doom
And transpired his ashes now the resemblance of a phoenix.
He's gazing at her grace, watching her pack
As she relishes the idea of strawberries and him on a platter
Together they abided by the laws of unruly sunrise.
White shirts and whipped coffee
Some places can never be too close
They're cheerful and falling in love.
