The burning star
Loving it
Twain of discomfort wrapped lightly around her wrist
She makes romance a way of her path
She steps lightly unto the stones awkwardly placed
In lilting degree of less or more, she is whole
The burning star
Loving it
Twain of discomfort wrapped lightly around her wrist
She makes romance a way of her path
She steps lightly unto the stones awkwardly placed
In lilting degree of less or more, she is whole
