The whispering wind spoke our names, and what if fate was listening, as 2 bodies were glistening, two lips kissing, by crackling twigs and roaring flames. What if I were stroking your spine with the inside of my fingers? Touching you in broken rhymes of spontaneity, that begs you to play with me, where senstaion lingers. Beauty they say, is only skin deep, So I must kiss you from the outside in, Until you scream, and find your dream in sleep, relaxing, then collapsing in a frenzied heap. I'll be stretching you completely so your bodies tight, kissing you discreetly till you feel me bite, Till the moon yields to sun at the death of night. Stroking your hair violently, Whilst oscillating silently, waiting for your crime to be, something you crave you consider taboo, If it helps the moment, I'll say 'I love you'. Is this attraction proving to hot? We're so fucking tired but you won't let me stop, A shadow of the twirling fan, cooling the sweat of a tired man. I'll kiss the skin on your lips, move like wildfire between your hips, and then in the morning I'll ask you your name, before doing it all over again, This is no illusion, Just carnal chess in full fusion.