Contours You Can't Put A Finger On…

Every lover has a contour you just can't-touch
Musical notes that echo, far away inasmuch.
It's like trying to contain a rain clouds image
As it swings north then south across the coast

All hold a little bit back; behind a drawbridge.
Each gal unheard has a damsels cry, riposte!
Enough, that'll make grown men weep, and cry,
So, he reserves making claps of thunder "high".

by Mark Heathcote

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