We stand, sit and speak,
yet we walk through life
unnoticed and unscented.
When flesh and bone go,
stripped naked and bare,
you see our vintage souls.
We smell like Patchouli,
lavender, old spice, rum
and the soft sea breeze.
Poetry | Stories | Photography
We stand, sit and speak,
yet we walk through life
unnoticed and unscented.
When flesh and bone go,
stripped naked and bare,
you see our vintage souls.
We smell like Patchouli,
lavender, old spice, rum
and the soft sea breeze.
Bob greets Christmas with bottles of Gin and Rum.
Mr Party Hard skulled thy spirits as if touched by the hand of meaningful existence. Work’s the pits, so he sits for a bit and wakes up at 3 am.
“Whoa! I’m wrapped around the letter “B”. How could this be? I’m so horny.“