This Night

Folder: 
2004

The touch of our lips,
Your hands on my hips,
The soft, yellowed light,
All combine, to make a night,
Where our passions emerge.

You murmur in my hair,
As skin, new made bare,
In soft light, seems to glow,
And hands softly flow,
Over long and graceful limbs.

I can't help but wonder,
If the love that roars like thunder
In my heart, pounds in my ears,
Will last us through the years,
Or if you even feel the same way.

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