Let me inject some insight into your windpipe.
The things I'd do to you in a dim light - the sin type.
Lace, hair up, high heels, low patience.
A taste; cold hearted with warm embraces.
Divvy up my intentions to evoke your inner beast,
Rummaging thru to devour my winner feast.
Appetite for destruction, thirst for the unconventional,
Back up, head down as the walls resonate your increase in decibel.
No celestial being within these walls when the mood hits,
Deuces, I'll make you see the light more than twice; my stamina defined: ruthless.