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Click hereThe old language spoke so sweet
I begin to feel swept of my feet.
Passion from a distance
Why can't I put up any resistance.
Fingers running through my hair
Hands pulling at the clothes I wear.
Nails leave scratches on my neck
Slowly I am turning into a wreck.
I invision a bite to my breast
The pulse begins to rise in my chest.
How can I be feeling so involved
How do I get these urges resolved.
There is no one here but me
Why this needing to be set free?
Tomorrow will he pull at that string
Until on my knees he does bring?
I must wait till the next time to see
Will he unlock my door with his key?
I'm pretty good at the biting , clawing and scratching .... can i unlock your door?