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.