Strolled through the door wearing nowt but a grin.
Seeking nothing more or less than a sweet bit of sin.
Dire need for crazy ***, smacked her smartly on the chin.
She's determined to win.
She gets under his skin.
Naked as this day were born
Torn heart's broken again.

And they cry and they lie and they curl up and die.
Feelings are reeling.
They're strung on balloons.
Cascades of lust as we're shooting the moon.

Wearing nothing but Sunday on Monday.
(C) LIVVI