What is it,
When my lips touch yours?
A magical feeling,
Yet to be explored?
Is it simply lust,
When your chest is against mine?
Or is it trust,
That I'll hold you till your fine?
When my arms hold you,
Are you afraid?
That I'll go too far,
And you'll get laid?
Or are you clinging to me,
As a rock against the waves?
A refuge in life's storms,
Freedom from being slaves?
"If it's love, my dear,
Then you'll kiss me softly.
But if it's lust,
Well, you'll just drop me."
. . .
A