red… red wine

It gropes through the night's kitchenette
your love, famished for mine.

Finding that's busy with another fantasy
has fulfilled itself by consuming stars.

Some of 'em, too spicy, burn love's lips
leaving you no choice but to wait for me

(with a glass of red… red wine…).

πŸ˜‰

mille fois

universe

Say

one that I want

ain't stopping

hold on

salut

on repeat

thousand love songs