Heart Place : Heated Whispers

Monday, December 8, 2008

Heated Whispers

A raging wild fire with a grip to hold onto I’m unable to hear your whispers in the night Reaching around your waist to press your lips to mine... Your soft spoken melody leaves me with no refrain My hands and mouth a hot southern sun No sweet rhymes will make me bleed... The starving mind to heed... Sign in to see full entry.

posted by Smittenheimer at 1:23 PM | add or view comments (4) | leave calling card | link to this | view only this entry
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