He was right.
We were walking somewhere in the afternoon, my lips blazing against winter-pale skin, and I was already calculating my escape. It was the beginning of the end.
Sunday, April 10, 2011
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
About Me
- xo
- The faces of past loves might blur around the edges of old photographs, but the scent of skin and vocal undertones will always burn in my memory.
No comments:
Post a Comment