Dance of the Subtweets

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Who the hell are you?

You, there…with those sexy legs…sexy lips…sexy hips…

You’re messing with my head.

I’d give you the Moon if you asked, but would rather stay in your shadow from the sunlight just to get that hint of red shine from your hair.  I would stand close just to get that whiff of your scent…that hint of a glance…that brush of a touch from your hand even if by accident.

As the old Genesis tune goes, I can’t dance…I can’t sing…I’m just standing here selling everything

…but for you, I would carry a tune and a rhythm until you cum just from the beat.  To feel you move with me…to feel your heart beat…to drive that smile.

I claim to be the opposite…but my inner romantic wants to run along your beach and dive into your warm waters.

Am I mad?  Likely so.

I don’t deserve such a goddess.

Thankful I am a non-believer…a free thinker…as I think I would like to be with you.

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