«Like a moth she moves to the red light Her blood warms and boils there She skims the sweat like a new milk And pops the buttons off her wet blouseaforizm.onlineLike a moth she moves to the red light Her blood warms and boils there She skims the sweat like a new milk And pops the buttons off her wet blouseLike a moth she moves to the red light Her blood warms and boils there She skims the sweat like a new milk And pops the buttons off her wet blouse
