Do my kisses upon your fingertips assuage any lust? Will these satin comforters pulled over you and me purify us? Feel my heat over yours like sun rays on the moon. The dark side of the moon is its flesh pressed against silken, starless night. My fingertips will scan your flesh as a canoe on still lakes. It looks the same very soon, but the stirring underneath remains.
Your warmth unsettles me as new spilled blood on frozen earth. Your eyes are stars stolen to give you sight and distress my words. Your lips are a sculptor's secret. I'm sure you were meant to remain hidden, but you came to me unbidden. A masterpiece with volition, even as your voice colors the darkness and your honey-flavored sweat dampens the silk. Your legs flex and your helpless behest urges me like nothing as I take you through the seven gates of heaven.