(insert love here)

[the_story_of_1]

Its cute in a way that you cannot speak,

you need to have a cigarette, knees get weak

I turn my head in a puff of smoke,

to see your lips, I almost choke.

The stars are high above the tree,

under which we have taken to  flee,

to paint the moonbeams that is ‘we’.

Our kisses meet,

My god, your mouth is my defeat.