I want to make love to you That's the first thing I think of everytime I see you. I look at the lines, and I think... okay this makes me glow, this makes me happy, and then it comes...

That urge of wanting to make you smile, sigh, moan, grin sometimes... maybe cry, when I'm depressed.

I want to tell you you're oldly yellow, but yellow is good, yellow is bright... I imagine your hair falling all over me when I tell you these words, 'I want to make love to you.'

I want to, I don't try to, and I guess that the thing that makes it so real, isn't it? You, knowing that I mean it, when you look into my eyes...

Or read between the lines.

But then again, you think you know me, but you really don't.   ¶ 23:05