It Is The Eyes
My desire to your sensuality swept
in quiet throe,
the moment skin touch,
I wind my life, my energy around you.
It is in the passion of your eyes,
will I seek pools of indecision
or might perhaps,
they let me venture further,
while hands and legs and mouths and skin,
oh the touch of you with my eyes in yours,
I do feel that,
I remember when I did feel this warm memory,
the sort we might wish continue, for when we part,
the cold reality of nighttime frost,
would awake our senses.
We could choose to wrap ourselves around each other again,
and we could let the morning sun rise inside each other’s eyes.