terminal illness (Remove filter)
Layers
you can't stop it
love gathers dust
its downhill from the end of lust
so hot she squeaked
her touch a scorch
nothing doused my flaming torch
wet mouth a snare
long limbs a web
we knew this inferno could not ebb
ugly but chic
lithe and svelte
a body that would never melt
we sit here now
old and forlorn
wishing we had never been born
...
Friday 3rd September 2021 10:38 am
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