His fingers sunk pale hooks
upon the alabaster jaw:
study me with those wet eyes, angel.
Be still and I will teach you
all that cruel body aches
to know.
.
.
It's all poetry.
It's all poetry.
His fingers sunk pale hooks
upon the alabaster jaw:
study me with those wet eyes, angel.
Be still and I will teach you
all that cruel body aches
to know.
.
.
