the streets are wet, my pulse is flat lined as im running to you. you sit, completly unaware of what im about to do...
Sunday, June 04, 2006 @ 8:14 PM
And the result of our sweet kisses
and whispered "I love you's"
are steamed windows,
the outline of drawn-on hearts,
and a case of untenable butterflies.
If there is such thing as perfection, im quite convinced that this is it.
