I will draw constellation on your palm someday, colours i will not reveal, but leave your senses to fill. For all the unspoken words, I'll draw you a star From the ink of the smile you showered upon me
This poem is breathing the scent long forgotten. There is a fragrance of someone's soft tender body just come out from an evening shower. The hair still wet , water still dripping from her lusterous hair. She has that ink of the smileshowered upon her by someone.
This poem is breathing the scent long forgotten. There is a fragrance of someone's soft tender body just come out from an evening shower. The hair still wet , water still dripping from her lusterous hair.
ReplyDeleteShe has that ink of the smileshowered upon her by someone.