Pink Blotch of Love

I think summers are overrated
I feel love stories are outdated.
At times with words I slaughter
I drink whiskey like its water.
I didn’t know magic
Till your fingers touched my soul
I didn’t know hope
Till your whispers filled my heart’s hole.
I am a never, a poor with wander lust.
I am a lost, a shineless star of dust.
You’re a sparkling ripple of clear.
You’re the glory of a phoenix tear.
I am the sleepless love of the bed
The woe of pale mornings unsaid
You’re the Goldkenn that kinds crave.
I am only looking to be saved.
A pink blotch of love is still on me.
It’s ugly, used, dip in a sad plea,
But If you want you can have it for free.

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