My Bella Cher... cela va sans dire, ch'ere amie... c'est autre chose. Oh my Sweet, you give astounding imagination beyond compare. The morning was all the more sweeter, you riding a mustang through my mind, while my eyes welcomed the morning sun casting a splendorous splash of golden hue throughout my enclave of rest. "Want" comes to mind easily, fueled by the kindling of desire.
Too far is that distant shore some may say, only one would cross a thousand thousand burning deserts to reach you, to sway with you, to ignite the smoldering embers setting you aflame, to satisfy the wanton desires needful of quenching, to take you into a realm only few can enter. A desire to trace the trail your fingers have trekked, contemplative, desiring what could be. Stir, stir me...
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