My lips tingle, brushed by the sweet breath of prayer,
Invoking a mystery of electric fields sparkling on the horizon of imagination, and sacred lips breathe infallible praise of sacred incarnation.
My hands glance your gentle face leaving traces of love's yearning to seep into every pore of which scale cannot withhold, yet passes by and by. I have met you before, dear stranger. These hands have felt life so familiar. Is it me or is it you that initiated love's encounter?
Invoking a mystery of electric fields sparkling on the horizon of imagination, and sacred lips breathe infallible praise of sacred incarnation.
My hands glance your gentle face leaving traces of love's yearning to seep into every pore of which scale cannot withhold, yet passes by and by. I have met you before, dear stranger. These hands have felt life so familiar. Is it me or is it you that initiated love's encounter?
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