My lips are naked
without yours to cover them;
my bones like ice
without your fire to warm them,
my soul shabby and shapeless
in the wardrobe of these days.
But in the places where your tongue
danced and played,
memories still remain;
my heart dresses itself in those memories
again and again and again.
without yours to cover them;
my bones like ice
without your fire to warm them,
my soul shabby and shapeless
in the wardrobe of these days.
But in the places where your tongue
danced and played,
memories still remain;
my heart dresses itself in those memories
again and again and again.
posted from Bloggeroid
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