Get lost with me,
in the jazz song I wrote you,
about how I longed to lay my cherry flavoured kiss,
all across your skin,
wrapped inside your arms again.
Middle of the night,
I struggle to sleep,
thinking about how I want to share the spring with you,
long evenings that get longer in the summer,
soft sunsets,
where I’ll plant a row of roses,
setting intentions,
planting presumptions,
because I’ve been sent premonitions,
and I think I want to live them.
Get lost in the love songs I found in my head,
my soul sang the first time I saw you,
and she never stops,
because you are the sweetest kind of muse,
and I am lost in you.
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