I can't help that she calls me, love.
You've said yourself, she was a jealous mistress.
I'm well quit of her, and she of me,
though she still calls.
*...oh but her body hides sweet pink flesh
and the salt, the salt on my tongue...*
I've never regretted a night
Spent here with you, you know that, love.
There are things a mistress can't give,
And you've given them all to me.
*...oh but she's wet and in her I'm slick
with me, she didn't crash, but flow...*
Why doubt your own gifts?
The bread of your body,
This home made with four hands,
And the children, our love made real?
*...oh but we are froth together
and moonlit dancers, fast, slow, bound...*
I've never looked back and I'll always come when you call.
*...but I always look back
always come...*