It was visceral, no cerebral
There wasn't anyone keeping score.
A spark held in a moment spent in eternity
That would melt most to their core.
Lace on skin so tightly entwined
Yet not enough to entice.
Could I possibly get you to dance with me?
Or would a simple text suffice?
Vexing is the haunting of a history
Far too stale and bland.
I'd explain most of it to you
But you wouldn't understand.
Years pass in oblivion
Without anything interesting.
We chide those that oppress us
Though our demands are nearly crippling.
Decided to run away one night
Escape this terrible crutch.
Yet I lie awake most every night
Wanting nothing but your touch.
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