• The kisses stop,heart noonger hops, you really wernt the one I thought you were. Sickness grows, everyone knows, nymphomania is the cure to heartache. A new man, held my hand, So scared I made the first move. The first time lips meet, on a secluded urban street, the afternoon leading to touch. Aware of need, smoking some weed, the hormones go crazy. It all starts with a kiss, leading to tingling bliss, his sent is that of pure sex. My shirt slides away, I clearly remember that day, His lips on my neck. His sin is hard as it gets, my sin gets really wet, but the time would not permit the meet. The kisses stop, my heart stops, an embrace perfect for the silver screen. The man I have, better than the man I could not have, but the sin of the flesh is the best.