Nights were never meant
for sleeping. Just gentle
love and hugs.
Camping wasn't meant for
bonfires and roasted
marshmallows. But meant
for sleeping bags and your
lover to be the pillow.
Nights were meant for
kissing under the starry
skies and tangled limbs.
Soft kisses and ******
whispers in your lovers
ears as well.
They were meant for making
out gently instead of rough
messy loud ***.
Because the angels fly above
the ripples in our sheets as
they watch us and play their
harps and violins.
While we kiss each other's
lips over and over again as
passion fills our naked bodies
from within* ~