Molten glass crunching loudly underfoot,
She makes her way slowly over his terrace,
His glistening eyes blinding her under the moonlight,
The crackling of ashen logs falling in the furnace,
The scent of his cologne lofted through the dewy air,
And caressed her senses so gently, she fell away,
The silk of the bedspread caught her and held her close,
Until her lover knelt down to quietly say,

I need you now.