We were spinning around,
On the broad boulevards of the town,
It was minutes to the darkest hour of the night,
And you were trying hard to imitate Elvis’s moves,
And I had frowned,
Tried so hard not to giggle,
And we had suddenly stopped,
And I knew your skin is begging,
To be kissed by little more than just the moon,
I remember losing my specs to your fingers,
I remember leaning in,
And your lips tasted like an orchard of oranges,
We were no longer spinning,
Trying to hide the red on our cheeks,
We were a ticking time bomb from that moment on,
And we didn’t know which wire to cut,
From then on, your lipstick was a little glossier,
And I had caught you trying my shirt on,
And you’d smiled, and said, “wake up sleepyhead.”
And the dream broke.

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