I would like to wake up in the middle of the night,
eyes still soggy from the pool of my dreams,
and step outside, to the glimmering moon-beams.
By some strange desire, without the slightest freight,
I feel a prickling warmth starting to swim,
Hot hard fingers slip into my sleeping skin.
I feel a fever reaching, hungry and contagious,
A velvet lava that splinters my delicate nerves,
And around my thighs, glistens and slowly curves.
Our beating hearts slam against these ribcages,
wishing they could melt together in a burning kiss,
to finally float, free in a smokey, ashy, airy bliss.