Lit when dark,
yet gloomy and cold.
6 by the hour hand,
& thoughts of you waiting
has my mind racing,
and my feet bolting
until I use the extra keys,
behold an open door.
Lit and dark:
Red rose petals and soft tunes
navigate my route,
through the candle lit chamber,
to the bathroom door ajar.
And there you are,
already seated soaked in a foamy tub,
in your most natural habitat,
like a lioness waiting for the kill.
Lit but dark:
Orange blossoms in the air,
as my steps drew me near,
I'm deafened by your loud stare.
So, gone are my virtuous thoughts,
waned into my precious evil rod.
Still no words said,
still our actions synced.
Lit is dark:
Then I took a dip,
and I felt your magic.
As bland as an infant
yet as fleshy as a berry.
Your kiss reveal unknown sensations
rushing down my nerves.
My grip cause you to tremble
till the tub can't contain us.
I then, burden your figure
& diligently set you on the mattress
to unleash my leash,
until my energy fails me.
Lit was dark.
Mild sun rays abscond
the defense of the curtain
to disturb the sleep
we now so much crave.
While the hickeys may fade by the hour,
the traces remain in your body,
the experience trapped in your dreams
& the feeling in our souls.
The bed sheet, the room, and the walls
would remain witnesses.
As they were also an audience to our show.
Our show of love.
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