fuckmewithwordss:

In the morning when the grass is still moist and the morning birds have yet to sing, I lay helplessly in between her thighs, sipping on she, tracing the outline of her insides, I plunged into her earth, and set sail on her seas, I tasted her pure, as she came for me, and now as she lays asleep, here in the morning, I’m still drowning, I’m in too deep