hands all over you before me before us before this
it's just an unplanned demand, charting all over my card
burning desire, I'm burning with my desire

I was already a poet by predilection, you took a penchant for my chanting words
how can you say that when I'm still under the shadows?
without lips and guttered lungs - I'm just a hopeless snow

(I'm melting - demanding)

I know without colours you could still feel the heat
shallow of me to think you need the torch to find me in the dark
but I've been trying to picture you in my head,
don't you want to draw me too?