Stirring

Something makes my chest stir

Every time I think of you

That oval-shaped, peach-hue face

With those light brown teardrop eyes

And those delicious pink-rose lips…

Something makes my chest stir…

But, you see, I can’t be sure -

And it scares me -

’Cause I really can’t be sure

If it actually is my heart that’s aroused

Or if the stirring

Is really somewhere much lower…