In shadows of slumber and transient hues,
You are the sculptor and I am your muse,
Misty pink tones of a softened pastiche,
Banish the shame and let passions unleash.
Fingers so gentle, they mould a wet form,
I am the clay for your touch to transform,
My skin is the canvas that is yours to explore,
And my blood is the palette of fire you adore.
The silken washed edges that glisten and sheen,
Do dance in the moonlight and veil the unseen.
The phoenix that rises from the moulds of desire,
Is born out of passion and its transient lit fire.
Pray keep me in slumber and do not awake,
For you are the path of the road I can’t take.
You are the Romeo to my Juliet,
You are the one I cannot forget.