Alliterations Allure
The breath of Briance, I believe to be...
Life that my lungs listens to lovingly.
Like dawn upon the lawn, her yawn is drawn,
Surreal as fawn in sun that shadow swan.
She's the warm wind whose works heal wounds inside;
Drenched, pinched with french our tongue and lips collide
Copyright © Johnny Sumler | Year Posted 2011
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