small poems & small plates
her fortune in a plate of paprikaa lass who leaves no one coldnever to be seen againyet down by the shorethe spices sing of hersharp and sweetthe very trace of her
her fortune in a plate of paprika
ReplyDeletea lass who leaves no one cold
never to be seen again
yet down by the shore
the spices sing of her
sharp and sweet
the very trace of her