While I would lay on your chest Your lips pressed against my neck As your fingertips drew on my back I would always quietly ask you What you were writing You would smile Which I would feel travel from my throat To my soul And gently say my full name But with your last name
Maybe it is Different for everyone, It's ambiguous. It's not something You can describe with words properly. If you can feel it In your own heart, then Surely, That must be love.