A fearsome tune this afternoon, the heart beats,
A tiresome slumber lays, these bedding sheets,
Upon those *******, do these hands clench,
Whose passionate desire in needing quench.
Upon those eyes, do these eyes stare,
Into the wholesomeness of a burning flare.

A beclouding aura passes through the air,
A ship’s rowing rod that draws a near,
To row thy ship to the places of no return,
But pause’st the storm may be’st concern.
By hesitation of torn and eagerness yields action not,
Until the spoken offs sets towards thy inevitable plot.

Upon the smoothness of skin lays another upon,
And to’st thy cave closer and closer let’s be drawn.
But through pleasure and pain, do it’s the row,
And through love and tenderness passion a’grows.
And hold’st the truths yet be’st difficult are they to tell,
That reality is off toned and thus emotions hard to spell.

Make’s the beast with two backs, do us aflame,
Until this mere ****** label can we no longer name.