Will it be all the nights of your bed empty when I couldn't sleep?
Are you going to choose instead, the moment
I put underwear on my head and asked in a horrible Russian accent,
"Would you like some bread?"
(--Look that wasn't entirely all my fault I...
had a lot of coffee and had been awake two days in a row.)

I'd prefer--
the flash of my mouth at your belly,
the way your cold feet shock me awake and
the run-on-wheezing-snorts
from you making me laugh so hard I cried.

Actually, I'd prefer
every moment of every day I said I loved you in cups of morning coffee.
Bacon and egg breakfasts.
Hanging out of cars and making Wookie calls;
the moment you taught me about Baba Yaga and I said
you were the smartest man alive.

I'd prefer if you remembered me when I go,
as the sun on your face in the morning after you get to sleep in.
(because I know how work, life, goes for you.
They never let you sleep in.)
As the lips on your closed eyes,
as the love that men and women fight and die for--
wrote legends, penned scripts and made movies about.
That love, our love.

I'd prefer if you just remembered me
as love.

I have so many issues
It's quite hard to explain.

So if you find that I'm worth it
You need to learn to stay through the rain.

Those instruments of the body
To help one see beauty and brute at once!
These are of  profound price
To the lovers rare wit,
That which they shall pay for, with their blood!
It is seldom these eyes are
The way lovers speak!

It is the eyes who speak
It is the eyes who hear
Where silence is the music of the ambiance!
Oh the ways of love
Who dares try understand them?

It is the mist that which never hides!
But often helps one lose his ways.
It is seldom these eyes are
The way lovers speak!

It is the eyes who speak
It is the eyes who hear
While they fist fight
For a naive smile, a novel price!
Oh the ways of love
Who dares try understand them?

It is the stars residing in celestial laps
But often too far off to earn!
It is seldom these eyes are
The way lovers speak!

It is the eyes who speak
It is the eyes who hear
When whispers seem too shrill
For eager foes of love to hear!
Oh the ways of love
Who dares try understand them?

It is the froth so mesmerizing
But often too frail to touch!
It is seldom these eyes are
The way lovers speak!

Oh
Baby,
Hurt
Me
Again.
Teach
Me
Not
To
Love.

Passionate kisses, touching, arousing, pleasing,
Leaving a trail of sensations, covering
Every inch of my body, finally being
Adored by your mouth, watching you
Sweat and starting to writhe, the pleasure is
Even more than I thought possible, ever.

From moments like that, to moments like these,
Usually, I'm not that much of a tease, please...
Come on, get a little closer, wrap me up in you,
Kick off the **** covers, I really wanna move

Moments are to be savored, with a sweet ****** thrill,
E**ven after I'm devoured, I want so much more, still....