You wind around the hillside
Sip every drop of nectar, which trembles on the twilight lips
: fills up to the sensory end
the rhythmic chills
You are drooping in a circular slit
: creeping into the night womb
You wind around the hillside
Sip every drop of nectar, which trembles on the twilight lips
: fills up to the sensory end
the rhythmic chills
You are drooping in a circular slit
: creeping into the night womb
