that's the thing you crave,
isn't it?


kisses pelting your skin like rain,
the sort of heat a tidal wave couldn't quell.

hands of honey soothing the quakes,
creating spasms tectonic plates couldn't rival.

lay me down dark haired angel,
sing a lullaby that will bring
me to heaven; but make me cry out,
body searing as if we were falling to hell.

savour my prayers belted out in the night,
cover me in holy water to cool the fire.

all i want to hear,
are your sins painting my skin.
i'll only find salvation in touch,
and the cupids arrow of your lips.