Boy
with the black, curly hair
© 1978 by Jim Andris
Boy with the black, curly hair
And the dark, olive skin,
When you walk in
I sit and stare.
Your body has such a natural grace,
You make me weak.
Is it desire that I see on your face,
Or is it my own foolish passion
Reflecting itself?
Tell me,
Boy with the beautiful eyes,
Are you seeing me, too,
Looking at you with such surprise.
If you will come with me, I'll take you dancing,
And as we whirl with our pulses advancing,
We'll know
That our time has come.
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