Through youthful touch we meet in blankets of sand.
Darkest brown, your gaze tightening, hearts constricting band.
Soft breeze, dark ocean, thoughts of petty tease,
Your form, ever so burning, eternally, my eager disease.
Pray tell, Annabella, for do tax my heart!
For I fear this love and crime are not far apart.
Sultry winks and adorable romances,
A beautiful result for one’s own precarious advances.
We were naught, a simple two,
Caught upon a careful charade for too few.
Be it fates hand that meld us to one;
For ‘til time come now, we hath not begun.
Our hands meet upon white sands of oceans tongue,
We are, stories told, but a song loved and unsung.
As final day’s gentle flames flow far into the distance,
Our warmth glow and we are one, from loves careful persistence.
Gentle whispers of desire and sinful ability,
We are but space and time, humanity’s true invisibility.
A display of our true and final affection,
The one most eager for us all, our lustful infection.