As we walk, hand in hand, on the beach,
whispering romantic sweet-nothings,
mon amour, the evening seems endless.
We kiss, the waves rush to us in glee,
rollicking, gambolling gleefully.
Mon amour, the flutter feels fervent.
The soft breeze brings a nip in the air,
delightful, pulsating, melodic.
Mon amour, let’s pirouette in passion.
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