The last time
I fell asleep
at the wheel,
she wrapped
her legs
around me,
her breasts
rising, she
whispering
her name,
the sound
of wind
lost in trees.
Sweet Nothing
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The last time
I fell asleep
at the wheel,
she wrapped
her legs
around me,
her breasts
rising, she
whispering
her name,
the sound
of wind
lost in trees.
Share this post