You can strikingly feel the magical migration of ions
Controlling the electricity you breathe
All the pleasant sensations of silken charges
Sharing in your sweet ecstasy

A very slight whisper of the purest sensitivity
Skillfully washes into your pores
Releasing a smooth rhythm of tempting delight
Promising your senses so much more

You yield in response to the rhythm of the migration
Cherishing sweetly the spellbinding sound
Of each breath as accepted by your willing spirit
Infused with the taste of the whispers you have found

Is this just a fantastic illusion, unhinging your mind
This migration you now find you embrace
You ask your spirit in a fit of rising rebellion
With a satisfied smile on your face