Torn Lace

and so it goes,
hot with fever,
wet with fate...

You throw an open wing around me,
tell me there's 'something' about me,
ask me why there's sadness in my eyes.
I clasp my thighs around your waist,
you tell me there's no need for haste,
we have the whole night laid out for us to take.

Slowly I uncurl, unfold,
like a story told, retold, in so many different tongues.
Chinese whispers,
Italian song,
crisp sheets blister from the heat.
Hours are stolen,
time disappears,
heartbeats doubled
in my ears.

sick with fever,
a worn out embrace,
a tired believer,
in torn lace,
I come and I come, and I come undone.