A wondrous identity we have,
a careless fruition of passion,
a seamless suit of seduction:
we wear it when we go out.
Of all our enemies,
hate loves us the most,
Because everyone's jealous...
Their eyes tear us apart.
But,
our love fuses us,
like elements.
People have dreams
of perfection...
they're dreaming of us:
of her hair over my head,
like a curtain,
hiding sunbursting kisses,
that would blind them
if seen.
Her back arching,
cascading,
beads of sweat like,
a waterfall of pearls,
off a diamond cliff.
Yes, they dream of us,
and now,
so do you.