Love Letter From the Soul Xxxii
It's in the morning I feel you the most
fires burning, deeply seeded in my loins
striped down inhibition
relaying stories in foreign tongues
me showing a Fahrenheit desire
your Celsius riding ever higher
lovers at last
longing to make up lost time
but not moving too fast
time might have slipped
but we glide to the rythmn
of the crash of the sea
upon her wall
we're not pretenders here
we did fall, we did fail
but we rose, smelling sweet
kisses delivered mouth to cheek
lips pierced and sucked into bliss
holding on to the morning
as the heart beats awake
the wind rustles the curtains
signaling for a journey to begin
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