My thoughts are hiding under stair wells.
They like the smell of your skin
And they vibrate with every beat of your chest.
They are in close quarters with your eyes.

My thoughts are buzzing in the air about your ears.
They have a bite like mosquitoes.
The weather is hot - my thoughts bare all.
I like the taste of your mind.

My thoughts are burrowing into your brain stem
They make you shiver, And when you touch them,
Touch me, I feel paralysed.
But in a good way.

My thoughts are quiet now, but they're screaming.
They don't like the silence, but they endure.
Because the skin is whispering, love,
And it's telling stories of us.