Trite
You write me
Like lyrics to a song
My head spins round
My heart feels numb
With my finger on repeat
We evaporate into the sheets
The moon is full our hearts in heat
A howl, a cry, a vehement sigh
The night is young & full of fervor
The taste of your skin is sweet to savor
Pillow-talk feels so impersonal
When I look into your eyes
What do I see?
It’s best I don’t say...
For to sleep perchance to dream
And dream I must
To quench the flames
Of a fervent lust.
This poem was born out of passion.
