Comments Inbox
| |
About This Poem
Symptons
The Sahara Dessert is in my mouth
My tongue is a leather strap
Palms begin to get very moist
A bead of sweat drips down my back
Butterflies churn in my stomach
My heart skips another beat
Legs are getting a wee bit wobbly
As my knees grow feebly weak
All because …
She smiled at me
|
|
|