And I loved you. And I felt a fire ignite in my tired bones as you wrapped my legs around your waist and dipped my neck beneath the hot cloud of oxygen you were exhaling. You fingers dug into by skin and it created a private meaning of total nonexistent regard. Raw and unhinged and despicably vulnerable. Like desperation or begging for light when its too dark. And I was free like a sunrise on Sunday morning. And I was filled to the brim with passion and I was hungry for more of it. So I shed all of my old skin and let you inside this heaven of darkness I call home so you could light my soul on fire. You may stay all night long.
                                              
                                       {Cheya Wolfe}