Would you like me to say your name,
To roll it to my tongue's tip,
So when it touches the teeth,
I would be able to taste you,
And learn of your flavor?
Would you like me to tell you,
What your story is - should I tell
It the way I believe it happened,
Or would you prefer that
My imagination runs so wild?
I never know what to expect of you;
Oh there are trickles for you,
But not from the corners of my eyes.
I dearly wish to watch the red sun,
Rising over the top of your head.
Your people know my people,
But which parts of me truly
Know which parts of you when?
Yes I shall whisper your name,
With my lips on your lobe one day.
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