She loves to be loved, It’s her favorite thing.
It’s her weakness and ours too.
Craving to be held, protected, safe.
We instantly fell for it.
Belonging to something again.

Now she lives with us.
Or should I say we live with her?
It certainly seems that way sometimes.
Sleeping in our bed when we aren’t there.
Dreaming of catching something fun.

When you see those eyes, deny their gaze.
Or else you’ll fall for it too.
And it will rest coiled in your lap.
Loving to be loved, living with you.