Your The Gin to My Tonic
Your breath smells of Gin
No silk softer than your skin
Even though you’ve thrown my letters in the bin
My love for you never grows thin
You’re the perfectly crafted sin
The temptation to know if your hair smells like jasmine
Your taste on my tongue is like spicy pumpkin
I’m no chicken but…
My knees tremble every time I see your wicked grin
You look like a doll made of Porcelain
Your more addictive than Heroine
Your lips gloss looks shinier than satin
The way you look at me cures me more than any medicine
Oh woe is me, won’t you be mine Jaelyn
-The Writing Flower
















