You make me comfortable
Sitting on your lap, like I’m portable
Eyes staring into mine as if their an abyss
You could say for a second it was bliss
Picks me up in a swoop
Like ice cream that you scoop
You say you can read me like a book
Expects me to leap with faith because of a look
Barely ten minutes into foreplay
You know more than you say
Asks for my trust to take off my panties
While I want to talk about the blooming dandies
Just want to get know you more
Your love language is physical touch galore
The deeper you get, the more that I see
You don’t really want to get to know me
Using flowery language and informative woes
Strip me from head to toe
Saying, “Let’s make love”
Sounding like I just might see doves
When all is said and done
I did have fun
Still left wondering the question thereof
Is it really making love?