Cinnamon (Remove filter)
Perhaps it was cinnamon
perhaps it is the way you smell when i lay my head on your steady chest.
the people we were last night will watch us through our bedroom window. we’re not the same, and that’s neutral.
perhaps it was cinnamon, less than we ever thought.
the butterflies in my stomach turned to moths ages ago.
by all of the gods and goddesses, it was cinnamon.
Tuesday 21st July 2020 7:38 pm
Recent Comments
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Start Monday
1 hour ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on When Tyrants Fall
2 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on The 'Perfect Son'
2 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on BLUE PLAQUE FOR YOUR MP
2 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on BLUE PLAQUE FOR YOUR MP
2 hours ago
Stephen Atkinson on The Poem Of Life
4 hours ago
Martin Elder on Call me soon
5 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on for the Unbroken
5 hours ago
Yanma Hidayah on Between Morning and Night
6 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on HAIKU DON BHLIAIN 2025 [UIMHIR A TRÍ DÉAG]
6 hours ago