Secrets

Yes. Your hand has told me it wants to be held,
Your other hand that it wants to run its fingers through my hair,
Your eyes say they want to melt into mine,
Your feet to take us anywhere.
Your waist says it wants me to embraced,
Your belly that it wants to be filled,
Your tongue that it wants to taste,
Whatever food for you I grill.
Your heart says it wants to be my heart,
And your soul my soul, and your life my art.

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