The Passage of time
It must be a crime
It surely must know
It passes so slow
I want to be there
My hands in your hair
Your lips so sweet
Mine will soon again meet
Your body against mine
Before I am out of the line
Before anyone can ask
My hands on your…
And then to our couch
Where we shall slouch
Why can’t it last forever
This time we are together
Julian Froment's Blog 