What a lesbian woman loves is what the man loves… No different.
Maybe better, maybe more respectful of her mind, her walk in life.
Where she wants to go on her path without interruption by me.
Yes, the softness, the curves that my hand smoothly glides upon.
All of that tenderness that can whip to deeper passion.
Always in awe at her depth of ideas and her choices,
The willingness of her womb to carry a child, her ultimate love,
An eternal love that never disconnects is admired. SHE,
SHE, SHE never carries an abandonment, should she birth.
She gets what deep love is, and is hungry for connections.
And through all decades, her passion comes in all things,
Yes in sex, but more: In her whispers, In her light kisses,
In her hard-pressing lips, In her style of wear, In her comb of hair.
From a cookie on a plate, to a cocktail… passion can leap.
A smile that connects with her eyes, that connects to mine.
What a woman loves
Is what a woman loves.
I will always love women.
Maybe better, maybe more respectful of her mind, her walk in life.
Where she wants to go on her path without interruption by me.
Yes, the softness, the curves that my hand smoothly glides upon.
All of that tenderness that can whip to deeper passion.
Always in awe at her depth of ideas and her choices,
The willingness of her womb to carry a child, her ultimate love,
An eternal love that never disconnects is admired. SHE,
SHE, SHE never carries an abandonment, should she birth.
She gets what deep love is, and is hungry for connections.
And through all decades, her passion comes in all things,
Yes in sex, but more: In her whispers, In her light kisses,
In her hard-pressing lips, In her style of wear, In her comb of hair.
From a cookie on a plate, to a cocktail… passion can leap.
A smile that connects with her eyes, that connects to mine.
What a woman loves
Is what a woman loves.
I will always love women.
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