Hands that seek and find with ease,

a thing thought lost, some inner peace.

Lips that search the midnight dark

and meeting generate a spark.

Enough to power all the world,

or so it seems, for when unfurled,

this peaceful, placid passion,

while not demure within it’s fashion,

is still somehow so relaxing,

a gentle love that is not taxing.

Even let me dare to say,

that when this paring has its way,

the world will see it’s for their taking,

a universe that they are making,

of hands that search

and lips that seek,

of minds that match

and hearts once meek,

rejuvenated by each other.

One simple thing,

the perfect lover.

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