Let me be... your filling dessert, your wicked garden.
Pluck the thorny rose and warm the frigid tundra, with the warmth of your honey wine.
Become... my silvery dark prince in that vase field of gold.
As your lips, the heat of your breath, the timber of your whispered sweet nothings, your skillful hands, and the story in your eyes... send chills of ecstasy down my spine