Standing at the cliff's edge
I'm at my dearest place
Sweltering in this heat
My face bakes in the roast of the sun,
Eyes too content to open
The tips of my hair twirl with the wind, as if they're sweethearts doing the waltz
My body shows how content she is
Standing at your edge
Her performance returns everytime
I'm at my dearest place
Big Sal
Thu 8th Mar 2018 23:08
Vivid.