Your fingertips are like sunflower tips across my skin, and when the back of your hand is pressed against my cheek, our moment is made a memory and our night is written down into history. Maybe some day, you’ll blossom just like I have.
Your fingertips are like sunflower tips across my skin, and when the back of your hand is pressed against my cheek, our moment is made a memory and our night is written down into history. Maybe some day, you’ll blossom just like I have.
