Delicious skin underneath blackened hair,
Seen through the clothes with imagination.
Your eyes that demand my stare,
And a body that deserves more than veneration.
Red, blushing succulent cheeks being bared,
Looking like the mistaken vegetable fruit.
To see us into a night for us to share,
For passion to take root.
I wonder, curiously how we would fair
If I was there
And you bare,
With my passionate, silver-tongue.
You showing me your heart strings to be strung.
Our moment of music to be left unsung.