You are a prayer made
of soft flesh
and a sin made
of sweet velvet
and a lust made
of whisperd dreams
and a love made
out of you
and I want to feel all of it
wash over me
and trap me
in the hour of eternity
and the flowers blooming
between your hips
and grind me down
and push me onto my knees
and tease my eager tounge
with a taste of the garden
and the stars you keep hidden
beneath the surface
of your skin
where I am consumed
by a prayer made
of soft flesh
and a sin made
of sweet velvet
and I die in a lust made
of whisperd dreams
time and time again
in this love made
out of you

Whisper to me of soft sins
and hard moans
I want to know
who you are in the dark
When you are naked and alone
I want to feel the stain
of your wet kisses
up and down my kneck
Push me onto my back
and carve your name
into my chest
Sink your teeth
into the corner
of the inside of my thigh
There is no pain
when I have the pleasure
of being in the reflection
of the carmel desire in your eyes
Pull me under the secret universe
you hide in the mad love
within the pulse
and rhythm of your stars
Drown my breath in the colors
and pallet of the beauty
of your blood red lips of lust
Leave the scent
and taste of your flower
To haunt the eternal hunger
you have seared
into the marrow of my bones
It is only by the warmth
of your breath
that I can enjoy death
and rise and die again

You tie me down to a bed of lust
with your silken verse
and slide the hands
of your come hither
and **** me poetry
over my sweating flesh
and cause the ambitions
of my sins to grow
as you spit out
the ***** things you want to do
with your lips painted
in wicked hues
and poisoned reds
and playfully strip us down
with your wet tounge
full of metaphors
until our clothes
and skin
and bones
are burning in your words of fire
and we become nothing more
than flames within
the whims of your desire
and take us to dark places deep
to penetrate beyond who we are
and turn us into
prayers of moans
and forbidden waves of sound
and light bent over
and arched
and twisted
and contorted limbs
no longer able to tell who is who
as we become a dance
of carnal acts
of primordial ooze
and then with a simple line
whispered in my ear
you bring me crashing back through
the stars
and doors
and flesh
and pin me back down
to your bed of life
and lust
and love
and death
and drain me with one final kiss
of molten bliss
that draws out the eruption
felt pass through dying soul
and trembling heart
and quivering flesh
and I rise and die again
in the beauty of your bed
made of words of fire
and ash
and burning poetry