I try not to touch your heart,
it is a sensitive point
at the tip of my fingers.
I hear you speak so often of it
that it is a precious thing,
love a simple thing, often easily awoken,
I know love is precious, easily broken.
Love speaks its own language,
it sings to the soul.
Love is precious, fragil
it will break if it'll fall
I dont want to see you fall,
I cant catch you if you do...
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erotic, not exotic... fruits are exotic
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