Vanilla and lavender and lilac. I am the touch of silk against the curve of your shoulder I am the taste of lips on a cold night when the loneliness settles deep. I am the sound of quiet footsteps and I wish I was the music; I wish I was made of pianos.
Vanilla and lavender and lilac. I am the touch of silk against the curve of your shoulder I am the taste of lips on a cold night when the loneliness settles deep. I am the sound of quiet footsteps and I wish I was the music; I wish I was made of pianos.
I am the touch of silk
against the curve of
your shoulder
I am the taste of lips
on a cold night
when the loneliness settles
deep. I am the sound
of quiet footsteps
and I wish I was
the music;
I wish I was made
of pianos.
[link]
--
What if there's always cups in the sink, and
what if I'm not what you think I am?