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Innocent Crave
Your beauty calls on perfect lust,
This summers day in which we've come to trust,
I look at you and dream away,
of fields so green,
Its an innocent crave,
and even though i imagine how you might be to touch,
its my heart i wish to be fulfilled from lust.
Strum once to accompany the day,
Your voice soars,
I ride the waves,
We count fantasy in the white world above,
and maybe,
Just maybe,
We whisper secrets of love...
poem
by
Andrew Rose
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