“No,” he said,
“I want to see how you roll yours eyes when turned on,”
“Biting your lips and your voice smoother than the dust of falling snow,
Screaming within a peaking ecstasy.”
“To see your soul in the white of your eyes,
And your heart in the brown lenses within.”
“Pounding to the thrusting movement between your thighs,
But gentle, to raise your spirit,
Into the sky of dreamers…”