My lips glide across her skin
white arcs in shadow.
She coos
the sirens song
as fingers find their place.
I trace the curves of her body
song lines to nirvana.
This utopian dream
relents,
to the want
of our desire.
Lips meet
entwined,
a spiritual
rhapsody.
Here, wrapped together
in the dim,
I worship.
Praying
to false idols,
dark gods,
long forgotten
to let this moment
last eternal.
I am weary
of the
struggle
and I long
for the sanctity
of her form.
A refuge
from the chaos
that sits
just beyond
the pane of glass,
waiting
to consume us both.