T E A, Good Sir!

Transcript

The moon hangs low, a por in glow, shadows stretch long, where whispers go, a cafe hum, the world feels still, the clock moves. Move slow against my will. Oh, moonlight espresso, bitter and sweet, where lonely hearts and midnight meet. The taste of longing soft and deep. In moonlight's arms I'll fall. I'll keep a curl of steam, a fleeting trace. Yo... Read More