Magnetic Motion
There's a pull between me and you.
Magnetic motion, gravitational hold.
Something always makes me come back.
Maybe it's those arms, those strong arms,
That wrap and envelope me,
Make me warm and fearless,
All at the same time.
Maybe it's those eyes,
Puppy dog like and sincere,
Long lashes that drop and open
and see into the depths of me.
Maybe it's those hands,
The ones that have fixed so many things,
like my fragile heart and refrigerator,
but also capable to make me moan
when so many others couldn't.
Maybe it's those lips that bow,
red and tasty, soft caress.
Maybe it's your soul,
the one I've been waiting lifetimes for.
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