I listen for a sound, a single word from you
like a little rain washed in from hell.
Lips just like a rose speak the dialect I know
in a way that calms me till I'm fast asleep.
In a crowded room, a single glance from you
so sharp that i think it could draw blood.
Lips just like rose, speak the dialect I know.
Prick me with your thorns. I'll let you have your fun.
I've never seen you grow at all. In the ground, you can't be found. Im watering and wondering around.
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