As the night winds move, this is were passion is wowed.
where heat lights the way, and the body says all there is to say.
pursed lips, anticipate the kiss,
that is on the other side of a wayward glaze, funny how so much is said without saying a thing.
Like the slightest twitch to every touch, how one submits, yet holds back so much,
for if fantasy is fully felt, then fantasy will surely melt.
So given just enough becomes and art, the truth to the senses becomes lies to the heart.
Compromise, is the flames of the night, extinguished by the mornings light,
because the shadows of the night were able to hide the imperfection, yet not that daylight breaks, there is no longer any protection.