Love is ... the smell of the rain
Love is ... the smell of her skin
Is this a wasted mood?
- An atmosphere made in vain
As slow, night dances begin
Each move, he questions himself
Shy, second-guessing his part
Am I just too needy?
On the line or on the shelf
Do I hide or give my heart?
Beautiful, hot, graceful
Beautiful, hot, graceful
Seducing his fevered sway
Love is her touch, as a flame
Yearning, he becomes her clay
With the heat of her body
Burning, dancing with fire
Love is ... her breath on his neck
Love is ... that deep felt tempo
But will his weakness win?
If he chooses helplessness
As smoke and mist,... she will go
And be ... the ghost of his dreams
Beautiful, hot, graceful
Beautiful, hot, graceful
Seducing his fevered sway
Love is her touch, as a flame
Yearning, he becomes her clay
With the heat of her body
Burning, dancing with fire
(c) Kay Irvin
1 week ago
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