The love we make need not last
I bite my lips and shift my hips.
You touch my hair with your fingertips.
My inner thoughts are on display
Your kind attention will soon repay.
Futures made or futures lost?
I give my hair a playful toss.
I touch your arm and then I sigh.
You placed your hand upon my thigh.
The kind of man you seem to be
is the kind of man who’s right for me.
The love we make need not last for life.
I have no desires to become a wife.