Assure me once, then reassure my heart;
it’s not that we’ve forgotten how you love.
And oh, my dear, you know when we’re apart
assurances aren’t all I’m thinking of.
Your hair, my dear, is foremost on my mind.
Okay, okay, it isn’t just your hair;
it’s kissing it while we are intertwined.
I know, I know, to say so isn’t fair.
I’m sure your hair will linger like a scent,
and then your lips will take their rightful place,
both first and last in action and intent
as in my mind you turn to face my face.
And then I’ll feel that I’ve been reassured,
although you won’t have said a single word.

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