december 4, 2017
F I R E G I R L
molten gold pours from her head, fiery flames licking the wooden table, scorching any who dares to have a taste. millions of coils hover above her mind, encasing her pale face with a glowing frame, hiding a heart of ashes accompanied by lungs of endless skies filled with clouds of heavy smoke rolling over every inch of land. she's a walking work of art who can't help but burn every paper she touches.
BẠN ĐANG ĐỌC
LIMN
Thơ Carepainting my world with the words silently formed by my rose-dipped lips. • 972 in poetry
