Your cotton runs in my hair
A hand is all I want
We rub all nite with ourselves
Dreaming our ugly
Ways we can't keep under control.

My instincts kiss your face
And I moan with my forearm
Hoping to make you give in!

Everything you touch is handed back.
Where both waiting to wake  waiting to kiss.
Even if  its it cold and bad like our grossest breaths.

We make get up and work and try to find excuses to be lazy to work on what we made.  

I love you...