Saturday, September 6, 2008

Mad about you.

I see your lips pink and wet.
Those were the signs of the youthful you.
You can see me bake cakes out of the blue.
Nothing is more tender than a kiss moist as dew.

The rain that washes away our stain.
The soothing woos over a boring plain.
You in sight,life seems a bit joyous.
Better than a festive season to note.
Is it I who declared the independency of knowing you.
Because knowing you,i know the meaning behind those relationship.

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