Sinful Sunday (Patreon)

If you were here...

If I were there...

If we could even meet somewhere...

Get a room,

The backseat of a car,

A blanket in the park,

Or even your back yard,

Under the morning stars,

Under a shower of morning kisses

And the weight of morning wood

And this heavy morning mood,

Where I can't stop thinking of you

And the things that we could do,

Reminiscent of morning dew

Beading against skin,

Sweetly swelling, slipping in

Folds of inviting morning petals

Under mornings silver light,

Fiery colors replace cold night,

Pressing against the force of nature,

How naturally

This all would be;

A sensual sunrise

Of you and me,

A heavenly anomaly

If only you were here...