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| | Tainted Pair |  | | |
Flowers on Valentine’s day. Your suit – black –
as your eyes. You hand them to me. A thorn
pricks my thumb. Blood drips on the budding rose.
We’re a pair. You’re the thorn and I, the bud.
You take me to bed, lover, while you pose
as my prince. You excite me – I’m reborn.
You touch my skin, kiss my lips, rub my back.
We’re a pair. You’re the thorn and I, the bud.
Sun rises, you leave… where? Say you’ll be back.
You return, leave, return. Such pain I born.
A ring on my finger and you propose.
We’re a pair. You’re the thorn and I, the bud.
A prick. You tell me there’s another rose,
(not as beautiful as I), with thorns
as yours, (you can’t decide) and eyes black.
We’re a pair. You’re the thorn and I, the bud.
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 | | | | | | | | Στατιστικά στοιχεία | | | | | Σχόλια: 2
Στα αγαπημένα: 1
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| | When the going gets tough, the tough get going! | | | |
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νετη541
17-07-2009 @ 01:14 | ...αααα...διακοπές τώρααααα!!!!....καλημέρα, φιλενάδα.... ::smile.:: | | Simos_Vassilis
17-07-2009 @ 02:12 | (We’re a pair??). You’re the thorn and I, the bud.
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ::theos.:: ::theos.:: | |  |
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