Making love is hard work.
It needs you to strip down
Illogical insecurities.
Every layer that you bare
Reveals more scars than
Pleasure points.
Each caress taunts to tickle,
To knock the air out of your lungs,
Till you risk stop breathing,
Gasping for something
More than oxygen.
The kisses are just a trap
To lure with poison painted on lips,
Crawling closer to a tongue,
Tempted to lick and swallow.
Make love to me under the moonlight
Because the sun burns too bright,
Like a never ending inferno,
Of lust, want and greed.
-