Friday, September 14, 2012

blood oranges

Silver tongues of fire lick
Your supple bottom lip
The candle with the broken wick
Your hand is on my hip

It isn’t lonely anymore
Electric blankets warm
Your eyes will surely make me sore
But won’t do any harm

Snowflakes falling on the beach
The ocean turns to ice
The blood oranges just in reach
This could be paradise.

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