Twilight and amber arrogance,
Gives clear expression, sans irreverence.
If my gaze were caught, would you reciprocate?
An exhibition of cream behind the rouge,
Dawns that archaic esperance.

So timeless the elegance yet reservation becomes you,
A reluctance to inquiry; you’re still burdened with virtue.
Let time behold the charms we so coolly converse,
Where smoldering embers revive at a whisper,
As if crawling from a hearse.

A flicker of light lines the color in your eyes,
Arise strings of blue, where well worn secrets reside.
At the precipice of finale, when the pieces are all played,
The queen takes his king,
And the plans have been laid.

We arrive where the fires light;
Clean sheets, light and cool.
Once embers now they ignite,
And your fingers run the wool,
I relinquish black silk,
And you trade for lace.
I surrender white cotton,
Then you keep the pace.
  
Analog half past morning, in the dark of the night,
An exuberant caress,
Both fierce yet polite,
It breeds that gentle potency,
With a shiver of delight.

So solemn and light; I arose,
And soon smells of cinnamon not rose
Filled the room which lay still;
scattered with clothes.

Now the rays kiss our sheets and climb silent up your toes,
They crawl warmly to your eyes and conclude,
That look of yours: it glows.