I anchored my dream in the garden of your soul flexible, your heart sloped its pulse to mine ebullient, our blood begun ce petit quelque chose the flirty poem was spread fulfilling in our longing

I threw myself in the bottom of my stomach to catch butterflies with the color of your eyes I've been waiting on you in a visual aid sonnet with an intense pretext of my emotion in yours There's no interlude. Desires have the potency to reconnect me to passion sound's sparks to not miss you