This will be the last time I tell you
How I curl my toes
And not my lips
How I close my palm
and draw you in
How I twitch my nose and never plead
How I curl my t’s in Italics
And the women you meet
Tell them they’re pretty
Praise their sea-deep eyes
And crave for me
But if you should cross my street
And fall weak on your knees
I will flick my hair and take you in
Keep you in my closet between the dreams
Like a pair of old shoes
In a new box cover
Like an old excuse
Used over and over
5 comments:
loved it. awefrigginsome.........
'like an old excuse
used over and over'
thats like nihil ultra dudette
hah...when you are the muse...had to be !! :D
awww swt thanks :)
bdw i like dat.... being called a muse....
wow! er beshhi kichu bolar nei...r btw...i luv this template too!
@ananya- :)Muse with pretty eyes
@Dipsy- I LOVE the template three :D
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