the bain...

beauty has always been my weakness
always hungry for kisses on the cheek miss
surrounded by the sweet softness
of subtle curves and supple touches
i just cant get enough miss
and miss and miss
of you

too...
much conversation,
too much shared elation,
too much contemplation
of randevous in the dark,
cloud watching sessions in the park
eternally carvin their names on the tree bark
of my exhistance
needing the distance
betwen them and me to be short
encouraging a weakness of sorts
i love when they make me weak
little dresses
flowing tresses
i choke on the words i speak
before i speak them
but when i give it
i give it sweet
and smooth like they need them to be
keeping them gravitating to me
because them...i need
well at least i believe so
admiering eyes
and fingers through my fro
master at my craft like a pro-fession-al
how could one say no?
i think i've got a problem

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