Feel
She steps out on a cold Sunday morning A snowflake lands on her cheek It melts as I melt behind the bar I think she spent at least forty minutes pampering herself And that is in my humble estimation of time
For I donāt know how time functions when a brush or a finger or a snowflake touches her face
She steps out on a cold Sunday morning She wants to feel pretty; loved; or just worthy of love Whenā¦
View On WordPress











