Love feels like a warm breeze against bare skin,
caressing you gently and cupping you within an
embrace that whispers promises of never letting you go,
and never dropping your porcelain heart onto the cold cement floor.
Love feels like a warm breeze against bare skin,
caressing you gently and cupping you within an
embrace that whispers promises of never letting you go,
and never dropping your porcelain heart onto the cold cement floor.
Word-Experimentalist
Love, Loss, and Life's Adventures
The heart harries the mind to tarry; only dead fish go with the flow
The dream is free; the hustle is sold separately
Tales of humour, whimsy and courgettes
Make yourself a drink.