Sweet scents, on a drifting wind of nothing but dreams.

                                                        ­         Swift motions, of a strong current flowing through your soul.

                                  Grazing fingers, breaking skin with a fiery touch.

    Soft moans, whispering silent promises throughout the night.

                                                         ­                            Leaving only pleasure in the Weeping Willow of our love.

Her fingers trail my arm with cold calculation,

her laughter as sweet as the deadliest sin.

She looks into my eyes with nothing but determination,

bites my lip and gives a sigh.

She takes what she wants without hesitation,

weaving her magic into the air.

At last I am told that my time is over,

she ***** my soul out without a care.