You counted the seams on my sundress,
Stopping at my hip,
The flaring floral pattern, opposite attraction,
Swirling spirals against thighs,
Fingertip lullaby,
Desire deepening in the heart of hearts,
The butterflys don't flutter,
All they do is kick,
The taste of your spit on my tongue,
As you kiss me like I'm the only one,
I'm afraid of heights, as I watched the clothes,
Flutter to the ground,
It's too late to turn back.
Swans mate for life.