5

92 7 4
                                    

do you remember
that moment when
you touched my eyes
in this sweet sort o' way
and me
melting under your fingers
wanting more than your dry lips
could give me

you have to remember
that moment when
you freed paper butterflies
from beneath raven-black lashes
and
broke my fragile smile
and
killed my soul

shy tearsWhere stories live. Discover now