Through the cracks (#7)
Through the cracks the wind is cold
One cold finger after another.
And where do I lie now, with these cold hands?
Cold on my shoulder, my hips, my lips.
February 6, 2010
Ⓒ February 6, 2010 by Luke DeLalio
« Number 6
Through the cracks the wind is cold
One cold finger after another.
And where do I lie now, with these cold hands?
Cold on my shoulder, my hips, my lips.