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To much to inquire
Love is a lust
like the gentle touch of the wind
it cradles the stomachs easing the sins
it is a breeze onlu the soul inquires
nothing compares in our desires
with a touch of his hand and my world it was so light
I did not dwell to change the fact right
love is a lust
like a fireplace smoke
to much to take
to little to choke
as the acorn nuts fall from the browning limbs
we fall deeper so deep we could swim
as we loved though we didn't last
you created my future and wrote my past
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