Childhood game that I only played once.
Reckless thoughts, chewed-up vision, blinded ambition.
Is that your hand on my waist?
I'm indulging in the whispered sensations.
Murmurs floating to the sky like abandoned balloons.
Your fingers are speaking to me, I can feel them asking for more.
This room is so small, I feel like we're one.
Bodies embraced, I forgot what it felt like to be known this way.
Are we no longer pure, no longer innocent?
No one is pure, we're all born sinners.
The ones who are wanted just go on being wanted and the ones who are pure just want to be wanted.
Intricate lace, romantic lit candles, and soft serenades.
There's none of that here, so why does it matter?
Love is in the body and the mind, not in the tangible objects of the every day hour.
I don't want to fall, but here I am, slipping.
My words fall short, but my heart says it all.
Shouting and thumping, it just wants to be heard.
You finally feel my rhythm, the beat of my soul.
Cold hands with sympathetic eyes, that's not love in your eyes.
Where are you going? We still have unused, untouched time.