Death of An Angle
it is on nights like these were I desire her the most, a cold wet
winters night reminds me of the deepest conversations while our lips remained closed, our souls whispered words that echoed when you held me close saying I love you
endlessly, a women who fulfilled my every desire with her Absolut smile whom I loved unconditionally, who with a single kiss could defeat every evil witch I processed and
leave me breathless, but the women I would die for is dead.
Copyright © Peter Hoopert | Year Posted 2013
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