And under the stars, the first time we touched, I gave myself to you.
Unknown to what was present, we acted on the binding impulse of energy written from hopeful thoughts and clouded states of mind.
You were the drug and I, your victim; every word evoked seeping like a poison through my skin. You, the smoke to my lungs, addictive and screaming the very meaning of pleasure.
You were the minx, the temptress, my master and obsession. The feelings of guilt overridden by lust and passion, I was unable to hold a single breath.
But my love, my nymphette, how brightly you shone. What are morals when the heart leaps forth?
Reflecting the incandescent light of the moon, I watch the violet veins arise from your skin. You are a woman on this night.
Darling, I can feel your body grow cold. You draw closer with every movement, our pores blooming to retain the warmth.
Our love is imminent, flourishing with every subtle touch and every rhythmic thrust.
We lie gazing at the dark skies once more, you awake but barely conscious, I compelled to hold you.
But my love, I took your soul that night.