Category : Poems

Sub Category : N/A

1
A Green Thing,
Sur-round-ed 
By Brown Skin,
Be-tween Dark Lips.


Loose-ly Like,
2 Hands that 
Re-mind Me Of 
Our Last Kiss.


Ironic the 
Candle Blow-ing,
Know-ing I will 
Not Get my Wis-h.


2
As I Lo-ok In-to The 
Cause of The
Smoke In a 
Yell-ow Gaze,


Like it is m-y
In-haling De-sire 
For Such An 
In-tense Orange blaz-e.


It Turns In-to a
Purple Psychic Circle, 
Starin-g Back at 
2 Crystal Ball-s!


3
Where i-s It?
Sur-round-ed 
By Brown Skin,
Be-tween Dark Lips.


Did I Mi-ss It?
The Part where 
She Returns and 
Give Me a Kiss.


Ironic The 
Candle Blow-ing,
Know-ing I will 
Not Get my Wis-h.