Soft and Mellow
Your Lips, Divine
Skin on Skin
A Hot thrilling Crime
Push and Pull
Your Hands, my Waist
A Painful Delight
Bites and Taste
Soft and Mellow
Your Lips, Divine
Skin on Skin
A Hot thrilling Crime
Push and Pull
Your Hands, my Waist
A Painful Delight
Bites and Taste
You hear us in the wind
You see our faces on walls
But our stories have yet to be told.
Death Separates us
Fear keeps us apart
but our stories must be heard.
Who dares to step into our world?
Far in a distant place,
a ring of emerald trees waltzes with the wind.
If they could birl without the constraints of the earth
they would float up to the skies.
The clouds would embrace them in a haze of cool water droplets
and the sun would gaze longingly
for he was stagnant upon the watery blue sky.
In the centre of the ring of trees
is a girl dressed all in white.
She sways to a rhythm
but with a fervour free of constraint.
She whirls and swirls
dancing around the trees
leaves brushing her cheeks
no purpose to seek
humming a song only she can hear.
A girl set free.