swaying to the thick summer breeze.
the sun, always at its peak
blazing on dry floridian ground.

hand in hand, intertwined by fate,
played by the gods of love.
a spark meant to last before the bells toll.

separated by foreign lands,
unfinished plans,
waiting for the last dance.

sweat trickle on tanned skins,
bodies wrapped within reach,
passion and lust fused.

this is the curse that binds us together.
to my lover from the distant land -
may hecate cross our roads again.