I don’t expect you soon to love me,
Nor are my own feelings clear.
Passion is the ornate entrance
To a world we crave and fear.
We cannot know where this will take us,
Nor whether we will ride for long,
But pleasure is the overture
That flows into the larger song.
So come with me with open mind
And heart, and we the time will prove
With laughter and with joy unfettered,
And, perhaps, someday with love.
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