I thought of you in the slightest way
Yet it was so intense, undissolved.
Like pure vodka, some burning liquors
With no ice, no lime, no water
So intense it gets me drunk
Within the first sip, of the first drink
So intense it burns
Through my neck, my pipe, me.
It burns me badly, a slow-death
Of which I could not wish for a happier one
เข้าสู่ระบบเพื่อแสดงความคิดเห็น
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