looking back now, i remember you sleeping peacefully on my white sheets. the shadows of my curtains flowing between your breasts, slowly dying while covering you farther down. your hair settles on the pillows perfectly like old friends' conversations over coffee or beer and my room welcomes you like you've cried in it before. but no matter how much i enjoy watching you sleep after every whispered sin, my coffee tastes awful in my tongue in the morning.
you are a perfect sight. a tell-tale photograph, right there on my bed, in sharp focus and color. a timeless memory not in monochrome. the picture of my desire in its purest form, staring back at me..
dear lord, sometimes i wish i never squeezed that shutter and said, "smile".
you are a perfect sight. a tell-tale photograph, right there on my bed, in sharp focus and color. a timeless memory not in monochrome. the picture of my desire in its purest form, staring back at me..
dear lord, sometimes i wish i never squeezed that shutter and said, "smile".
