What more can my motor mouth say?
Or how much more Can my eyes widen and glow?
Than my hands that now speak as they gently caress
Your tresses, my dear, that, like a black river, perennially flows...
Am I caressing your hair, so you feel all pampered?
Or do I do it to prevent the sun from drying up the rivers I love?
Do I caress for you then lean on my shoulder, that I so crave?
Or do I, for I see no higher purpose for me now?
Or how much more Can my eyes widen and glow?
Than my hands that now speak as they gently caress
Your tresses, my dear, that, like a black river, perennially flows...
Am I caressing your hair, so you feel all pampered?
Or do I do it to prevent the sun from drying up the rivers I love?
Do I caress for you then lean on my shoulder, that I so crave?
Or do I, for I see no higher purpose for me now?
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