Poems from ylm9794

She has eighteen summers in her bones, and he makes every single one of them quiver. He holds her hand in the car and says good morning...
There's something indescribable about stale wineand his thoughtful face
that brings happinessto my chosen silenceHe was destined to be here...
It seems that the moons sole purpose of existence that night was to bathe your porcelain face made up of pink, freckle-kissed lips that...
Her eyes makeThe sun lookDark and theClouds rollBack when sheSmiles.ThoseLips make the
Stars mutter amongThemselvesBecause she won’tTeach...
Darling slide out
 Of your worries
 And bury
 Your heart
 In my lips.
 I will slip out
 Of my fear
 And wear nothing
 But your touch.