Midnight in a Perfect World

Gentle winds caressed the burning sand,
The night sky was red in that burning land,
A drop of blood she licked from the corner of her lip,
She felt his clawed hand moving over her hip,
Up he rose like a ghost in the wind,
Taller than the sky, hissing sin,
Her hands and skin were soft and serene,
And he loved her flesh as if in a dream,
A tongue flicked out, across her neck,
She kissed his cheek, a gentle peck,
His finger trailed dangerously down her spine,
Her flesh was naked to the sky divine,
He sighed, contented sound echoing against her cheek,
And his tongue moved lower, until she was weak,
To the sand, the lovers dripped,
Cheek to cheek, and hip to hip,
His hardened body of subtle sinful scale,
Her body so dark, her soul so pale,
The moon was never to be seen tonight,
It was a perfect world, perfect midnight,
Upward went her chin and thighs,
He drew from her her breath and cries,
Undulating like dunes across a dry sea,
The world could not stop what had to be,
She shuddered and he clutched her, holding her tight,
There was no wrong, and there was no right,
As she rode the waves of the wind-swept sands,
He played her music with his careful clawed hands,
Emerald eyes met crystal gaze,
They burned into memory and froze time in place,
Around her trembling body he curled,
And it was midnight in a perfect world…