I smell the wild on you.How the snow is caked in your fur.When the night falls, what doesIt offer besides survival.And the means to be…
Poet & Storyteller
I smell the wild on you.How the snow is caked in your fur.When the night falls, what doesIt offer besides survival.And the means to be…
You’re the glassI pour my whiskey intothe perfect weight.Heavy, broken in. Your neckrests comfortablyagainst my fingers. Your cold body,lost in my warmth,your lips become sticky,…