Peachy

Ефим Тырайкин
Hands of yours... there's peach in their smell.
I miss it so badly... how come.
I long to revel in its trail...
To nestle my face in your palm

Please, your smile, be the light of my day
Please, luv, stay here, don't go away
I’d cuddle closer. Accept my caress
I'd babble love and something naughty, I guess

May, my dear, your arms, encircling my neck,
Be my rapture that's never gone
I give no damn, if you stifle me dead
I want this tight, don get me wrong

I want my soul to tremble in bliss
I want to forget what's beyond those seas
I want this to be the only time
Only this bodies - yours and mine

I want no dreams of the past, no nightmares
No more gray skies, no more despair...
You only,
       birds twits, leaves rustling sounds,
Feelings cascading beyond all bounds.