It gives us the yearning for something we know isn't right,
The force is so strong that it gives us instant excuses as to why we should give in to it,
Falling into temptation isn't necessarily weakness,
Its tolerance.

I've got my red dress on tonight
Dancing in the pale white light
Feeling the wub wubbing shiver against goose bump flesh

Driving down the night
Going about 99
Swaying that electric rhythmic catalyst beat
The smell of sweat and cigarettes floating on the stale dim air

Like magic my feet move to the silent song of youth
I am young
I am free
Dancing away to the tenor jubilee

What if devil is a fallen angel?
And I was an angel in the past
One with the widest of the whitest wings
Before you've shown your face to me
You were my temptation
I fell under your spell
You've brought me to sin
Something that never felt so good
But never was right
I'll never reach back the gates of heaven
And be forever trapped in this eternal pit
Of your selfish doom

Temptations are hiding in the lines of her skin.
She is the only book you can read in the dark.
She could destroy most men with just a flick of her hair.
But she can really rip your soul out with her stare, eyes brighter than a supernova and her smile, more mind blowing than the black holes she creates.
Her body, is the creation of infinity. Her voice is the reason there is no gravity in space.
She is acid rain running down your face and leaving you with that bitter taste.
She is the feeling of warmth, in an ice cold embrace.
I would imagine she is the reason men like me are here to write her into poetry. She is simply, just, a woman.

I have clandestine thoughts that were
But an itch needing to be scratched.

I had impulses that like A puppet
Were controlling these incessant urges.

Seduction of the moment willed its way,
I must  now follow thoughts gone astray.

They only fade
Never die
Not until the day
We fly

Captivating, conspicuously charming
A fragrance so enthralling
Bewitching the senses
Enticing the unfocused soul

Hypnotizing, hardly hypnagogic
Such unparalleled grace
A peculiar dancer
Coaxing the mind to perplexity

Anodyne, aberrant anesthesia
Resembling an ethereal angel
A touch appealing to tame flames
Surreptitiously gathering fuel

Sacrosanct, superficially sacred
Donned with deceptive modesty
An ambiguous spark
Threatening to begin a wildfire

Efflorescing, escaping encumbrance
Soon, a firm grasp on freedom
The freedom so prematurely served
Too early to be maximized

Incantations, whisper incantations
Silence the demented demons
An unconventional ritual
To fortify the continence
Ebbing continence
Another attempt made
Stall the impending debauchery
Enunciation is needed -
Esurience is never innate, but provoked