The bedsheets roll over,
as you pause to hover
over miles and miles of my skin,
that tangle with yours akin.

You spill the pearls of desire,
as I intently glow, like fire
that burns the dark meadows
into the forgotten shadows.

Our breaths stay still,
as the night slowly fill
the silences that once stayed.
Then stars burst all at once, a grenade.

The wind roams flirtatiously,
as we grow voraciously
high in the night, to drown
in the drunk sheets, before dawn.

She stays in her sacred lair,
with the miles of skin hidden from the stare,
as her words fill up the void of peace
while they have their timely feast
of the untold tales of despair,
that erupt from tounges with much flair.