Sour Apple.


He may try to sleep with my best friend.
But with this,
I understand.

I am too kind, and too cold.
I destroy and love far too dearly.

Let me explain this to you, my dear reader.

I am a dwindling,withering woman,
But in this, I have grown in beauty.

Let this liquid, aquatic, tonic stain my teeth.

Who is to care!

I am searching for something that may quiver me bitter,
But wakes me up in a morning breath so sweet.

As I said,
I am prepared,
Come at me , my love.

Let me show you how I have longed,
For such an acquaintance.


No comments:

Post a Comment