Can't you feel the tension?
The chemistry when my lips meet yours.
the intake of breath as your hand slides up my thigh
the spark that creates the passionate fire.
the need and the wants and the true desires.
Baby, its so wrong its right...
and i love it.
Its a recipe for a perfect diaster.
Me, the carcrash heart,
the trainwreck,
the mess and the mash
and the tatters of what used to be.
But I still love it, more than ever.
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