Precious
When he claimed me as his he gave me a new name...
“Precious” he calls me, Though the world does not see The love that we share. He runs his fingers through my hair. “Precious,” he tells me, “Be the best ‘you’ you can be.” Gently encouraging, Wanting, urging. “Precious,” he calls me, “You know you are free Though I hope and pray You want to stay.” “Precious,” he tells me, “Turn on the lights, I want to see.” My trembling desire, Igniting his fire. “Precious,” he call...