read
write
members
about
account

 

datedatememberrandomsearch

January 4, 2014
You tell me every day, how my teeth are the whitest light you have ever seen, and you could see them behind my smile a thousand worlds away.

You say how they shape perfectly in a line, all 32 of them. How I grit them together when I'm angry, or how you can barely make them out when I part my lips; because in the end, you're always the one who can see right through me.

You tell me everyday how you could stare at the way I lick them when I'm engrossed in something.

Oh, how you know me.