Is this what passion feels like -
Lingering in the nook,
Created between damp lips met in soft quiverings?

Idling saucily in the bowl that,
Balances in my shoulder -
Dripping down my chest, to my breast
And resting...

Does passion taste sweet,
With a hint of anger,
That sounds like,
If one's lips won't suffice,
The teeth will?

Teasing with fury,
As if tempting the jury,
Peeking down at one,
From above.

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Or, is passion the heat,
That arises between,
Two lovers, merely,
Sharing a kiss?