Modern Romanticism

Standing there, moving nowhere,
as a furnace for this velvet room.
Heat radiates from in between
folds in those curtains of flesh.

I take a step. You push back.
You tease, as I aim to please.
One look from your eyes,
to be lost in allure.
One kiss from your mouth,
to suffocate on your tongue.

There’s an ocean for us
to be feral, or to be forever.
There’s an invitation
from Heaven,
or even from Hell,
for us to know patience,
or a blind temptation.

There’s a kindness to an ending,
as I keep myself guessing
at when we will review ourselves
before we settle ourselves,
wrapped in skin,
devoted to sin.