Smoke کے بول

She moves like warm molasses Drips sweetness your chin is covered Can't get her taste out of your mouth Nor do you want to She moves like summer breezes Across fields of nectar clover She carries the heavy scent of Gold pollen and milkweed She leaves the room The sound is like smoke rising It curls around the nape of your neck She leaves you like An opium addicted schoolboy Lost in foreign tongues Wanting more She feels like the ripest fruit held Between trembling fingers precious The rivers of melting butter Stream down through the valley She sounds like a siren calling You in the ocean headfirst then Her silence is broken glassware Blown by the furies She leaves the room The sound is like smoke rising It curls around the nape of your neck She leaves you like An opium addicted schoolboy Lost in foreign tongues Wanting more