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Atomic

       
She prays for me        
and I, for rain        
       
then, when it rains        
it rains immaculate        
       
and she is the snow        
       
pure      
       
soft, and driven          
       
and she is the wind        
that carries her kiss        
which brushes my lips        
so I can taste her        
on the tip of my tongue          
       
and she        
is the flying fortress      
       
which carries the bomb        
       
and yes      
her hair is beautiful
 
 
 
Written by lepperochan (Craic-Dealer)
Published | Edited Yesterday
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