This my dear is not about your endless slender beauty,
It’s a confession that I wish to make.
I have not committed the sins found in law or those covered by religion.
But I have a terrible thing to admit, that I must get off my chest.
It is a passion that has befallen me, a desire that has struck me so strong.
It’s worse than a drug like cannabis or alcohol, the more I get the more I want.
When I sit here and I don’t know what else to do and my eyes over your picture fall.
I want not just to touch you, body and soul. Spend the rest of eternity feeling this way.
So sometimes I wonder, if you were here but this would be missed.
Could I still love that girl, without the magic kiss?
What on earth could I do, try to explain, attempt to escape.
Or pick up my bags, search for the magic lost that must be found again.
