by toni elie SINNER
I have forgotten to what extent
a mere whisper, a careless glance,
from thy lips issued, thy eyes lent
enchant my senses to notions of romance.
Thus, restless fears and arrogant reality do forsake,
and let us lie in desire by dim light bathed.
Captives to the rhythm of a charming serenade,
our motions will echo as ripples on a lake.
Lost in chaotic bliss to which flesh and wine collide,
sensual sighs shall shatter the night's silent pride.