You are parched with hunger,
Not with thirst.
Those lips of yours don't need chapstick;
That's only a temporary relief.
Your heart's wild drumming
Is not coincidental.
You want more.
You need more.
Let our mouths be like two Sticky Notes:
Stuck together and reluctant to part.
I'll feed your hunger with kisses.
(Not the chocolate kind.)
You want chapstick?
I'll give you lipstick.
I'll increase the tempo
Of your heart's wild drumming.
But I sure as hell can't brighten your world
Until you unlock your percussion heart.
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