what's noticed first is beauty's curse the motion of your eyelids, reclining your lips, smiling, before they're perched convinced, a beautiful mind's worse relying, on verses supple, still condensed derived from bourbon with a twist, of common sense not deterred; determined providing suspense, sensually to cry out the urgence, of intensity in my heart's murmur dying to converse whenever your silence emerges i'm left, yearning for your words, especially to quench my thirst guzzling, intellect my face, snuggled in your neck intercepting your perceptions mind fuckin' you per sentence like i'm fuckin' you, relentless saying something you respect summoned from assumptions from your substance & for looking scrumptious clearing my throat preparing my approach for consumption