There is a patient guise over the thoughts that cause your teeth to grit.
Pheromones are increasing your heart rate until your lungs feel smaller.
Eyes cut through atmosphere and burry themselves in the goosebumps on your skin.
Blood congregates, changing the complexion of your face and neck, and
We begin to feel a choir short of a holy moment.
I feel as if God’s hand is pushing me in the back towards you.
What words could connect our burning thoughts?
Seduction is a language spoken by the devil and I need something pure.
If I bite my tongue I will only taste blood, so I will allow it to move freely.
I have been moved to show you that I need you deeply, but not in a way for you to complete me.
I just want a girl to fall asleep with and I think you’re dreamy.