Where can I turn to whisper these desires that quietly burn me? For me they are neon, glaring their light over every encounter. But they are unrequited, silent. Homeless, without form in my outer world. They do not even belong in my mouth.
Where can I turn to whisper these desires that quietly burn me? For me they are neon, glaring their light over every encounter. But they are unrequited, silent. Homeless, without form in my outer world. They do not even belong in my mouth.
