And Then It Was Chill.

It’s the way you tingle my senses.

Flirting..

Steadily biting..

Creeping..

Under my skin.

Pallid lips kissed by you

Smile at a sun’s struggle to outshine

the

dust-laden

wind.

You cripple me with your season’s chill.

So why can’t I but await harmattan eagerly?

love
‘lape.

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Author: Lape

Lover of Christ. Aficionado of art, words and cologne. Student medic. Amateur pianist. Vous parlez Français?

2 thoughts on “And Then It Was Chill.”

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