I want to take you to the depths of lust, and bathe in all your trust.

Suffocate in all my pleasures as I hide all your treasures.

Fall under the weight of my passion and perhaps I will show compassion.

Sink your intellect with a thrust as your touch I find a must.

Your whisper tells of unkept desire as my lips take you higher.

A rush I need not explain flows straight to your brain as your voice you barely contain.

Our actions we need not name for our bodies feel no shame.

Your strength you regain as your gratitude you claim.

Misunderstand my authority, make my submission your priority.

You fill the cage with your underlying rage.

My innocence I stage, as your eyes I engage.

It was the dawn of a new age, as I turned the page.

The kind of girl who saw through eyes of seduction and spoke through lips of desire.
You had no idea who this girl was, yet you wanted the scent of her skin to penetrate your entire being.
This happened ever so often, but this time, you were not prepared.

You study the movement of her lips as she pronounces her every syllable.
Helpless, you notice the curl in her eyelashes and the swirls of color in her eye.
Her laughter intends innocence, but you understand her more than anyone.

You play her like the keys of a piano.
You take everything from her, and she enjoys it.
You knew she was the kind of girl who kept her secrets.
The kind of girl whose touch was filled with lust and whose kiss overflowed with passion.
You had no idea who this girl was, yet you wanted her every thought to enter your mind and body.
This happened ever so often, but this time, you were not prepared.

A faint light falls onto her soft hair as you observe the various shades of colors it contains.
Enticed, you notice the intricate pattern of freckles on her skin and the pastel tone of her skin.
Her words express virtue, but you understand her more than anyone.

You play her like the strings of a violin.
She gives you everything, and you enjoy it.
You knew she was the kind of girl who kept her secrets.
The kind of girl whose delicate clothes hid audacious undergarments and high strung corsets.
You had no idea who this girl was, yet you wanted her every particle to be yours.
This happened ever so often, but this time, you were not prepared.
She was the type of girl who kept her secrets.

If lust we’d fight, morals would be contrite.

If night was light, darkness would be right.

My soul you excite with the words you ignite.

If thoughts I incite, your mind I rewrite.

What sweet desire, I conspire.

Your fingers through my hair, such a rush I can’t compare.

A touch light as air, it’s control I want to impair.

I kiss you in despair, as my attraction I declare.

A certain flare, what an amorous affair.

What sweet desire, I conspire.

In delightful degradation, we practice this flirtation.

In defining temptation, we begin the translation.

In sensation, we find our sedation.

In moderation, we continue exploration.

What sweet desire, I conspire.

But you must keep it between you and me.

One day, walking through the forest, a woman met a man.

He was one without emotion.

He gently handed her a crumbled up note, his eyes were warm.

“Forever pondering, it’s this forest I’ll keep wandering.”

She looked up at him with confusion and opened her mouth to speak, but before she could let out a sound, he silenced her.

Scribbling frantically on his journal, he ripped out another note:

“Teach with the eyes. Speak with the mind.”

Looking down at her hands, she paused for a moment and took a deep breath.

Repeating in her mind the words she had just read, she brushed her hand up against his.

“Touch”, she said with a tremor in her voice.

Her hand slowly traced the line of his torn cloak, moving upward toward his neck and onto his face.

She traced the lines of his five o’ clock shadow and admired his ever so handsome features.

He stared into her eyes relentlessly as if attempting to deny the very beauty that sat before him.

In an attempt to look beyond her glowing skin, he closed his eyes.

But he could not help to still hear, and the pace at which her breathing rose made it that the more difficult to stay composed.

He was no longer one without emotion, and as she slowly dragged the tips of her fingers across his lips, she whispered:

“Lust”

Precariously, she moved her hands downward and placed them above his heart. She leaned in and placed her ear next to it, wondering if the heart of a man with no emotions had a beat. She had thought those kinds were obsolete.

Different than she thought it would be, it was much like a melody.

A melody that told the tale of pain and perception.

The song of hate, and deception.

Standing there,  he felt the sweet scent of her hair.

It was denial that he could no longer bare.

Her lips were ever so fair, and her soul was ever so rare.

Right then and there, it was for her that he began to care.

The leaves crumbled under their knees as they stood.

He put his hand on her heart and said:

“Love”

Smiling, she gently handed his crumbled note back to him.

He looked up at her with confusion and opened his mouth to speak but before he could let out a sound, she silenced him.

Placing her hands on him, she pushed him away from her and turned around.

As she walked, she turned and under her breath she said to him:

“Lost”

It’s a story I tell with glee, you see.

But you must keep it between you and me.

One day, walking through the forest, a man met a woman.

She was one without emotion.

She gently handed him a crumbled up note, her eyes were warm:

“Forever smirking, it’s this forest I’ll keep lurking!”

My loyalty, another wound on your already infected soul.

Speak and the masses quiver, my every cigarette burns through your thoughts.

As we calculate your cruelty’s apparent rise, interpolate my souls demise.

Let’s run into the forest of my understanding and breath the oxygen of my belief.

Your breath comes to halt, it was my lips that were at fault.

Step into my world, fantasy ensues as my anarchy you bruise.

With addiction I infuse, it’s my veins you do abuse.

With my body I confuse, it’s my soul you do excuse.

In the room of your containment, my passion is a fly on the wall.

It’s my name you call, when your lust you no longer stall.

One touch and I fall, it’s under my skin that you crawl.

Emotion I do recall, fallacy was it all?

Welcome to the entrance hall, my passion is just another fly on the wall.