She fans the dust in my direction,
Motes of light,
Carrying a million whisps of nasal ticklers,
Inviting me to a fit of sneezing,
Looking on,
Mischievously!
She fans the dust in my direction,
Motes of light,
Carrying a million whisps of nasal ticklers,
Inviting me to a fit of sneezing,
Looking on,
Mischievously!