Arianne Arianne is april morning, that comes rippling through my - TopicsExpress



          

Arianne Arianne is april morning, that comes rippling through my window. Shes the smell of coffee brewing, on a quiet, rainy sunday. Shes the purring of a kitten, that has made my neck a pillow for his head. Arianne is silly music that my father used to whistle. Shes the new leaf on a fire that I had given up last winter And what writers have to feel like when they suddenly discover theyve been read. Arianne is mommas crystal bread thats nearly finished baking Shes a rainbow in a puddle and the happiest birthday shes agoin out on friday and acomin back on monday with a tan. Arianne is made of feelings so I milk her of her kisses And I swallow up her breathing and I taste her where she love me And Im filled to overflowing but theres always room for more Arianne Arianne is mommas crystal bread thats nearly finished baking Shes a rainbow in a puddle And the happiest birthday Shes a goin out on friday and a comin back on monday with a tan. Arianne is made of feelings so I milk her of her kisses And I swallow up her breathing and I taste her where she love me And Im filled to overflowing but theres always room for more arianne
Posted on: Wed, 17 Dec 2014 22:16:24 +0000

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