I can't remember the taste
Of a girl's lips against mine
but I know when I look into her eyes
the taste will be drowned out
by comfort
and desire will be fulfilled
not with touch but with song.
Music will be made by love
and lust.
The night when our arms
linked us with an unbreakable bond
and our legs stuck with sweat
we left fear behind for the feeling of being
content.
Hand through hair, hand on hand
hand on hip, hand on neck
hand on perfection,
and sleeping alone will never be the same
because the hand will wander
for content and wander
for comfort and wander
for her
because hopefully, she'll remind me
of the taste I so long for.