After you, nothing
will ever be
the same;
I’ve had you
on my mind —
I’ve had the taste of you
left over on my tongue,
behind my teeth.
I’ll never know
another love,
another breath,
as fulfilling
as you.
About Catastrophe Jones
Wretched word-goblin with enough interests that they're not particularly awesome at any of them. Terrible self-esteem and yet prone to hilarious bouts of hubris. Full of the worst flavors of self-awareness. Owns far too many craft supplies. Will sing to you at the slightest provocation.
