Your serpentine grin is home to beacons of light that freely cascade beyond the skies of my iris.
Blinded, I am-

Harboring above the sedative call of
my name awaits the serene sting of your lips.
Lingering, for mine-

Your body desinigrates into the sands of time and I become the warmth of black silk sheets and the brisk breeze of a winter night.
Infatuated, we are-