3. The Sexual Intellectual Symphony

My eyes turn east, my eyes turn west
They search for she of beauty blessed
With lips so curved and that of chest
With whom I play games of flesh
My hands to touch, my tongue to caress
To drink her sins, my sins confessed
To she with whom my peril blessed
And when she walks away from the scene of the crime
And when she looks over the hills
To she whose lips scream emptiness
Whose hands allow mine to touch her breast
And take her heart from behind her chest
Make it crawl to my hallowed nest
To kiss and seduce and to bite and undress
And after we collapse a heaving mess
Our arms and legs entwined no less
Bodies and Minds slip into rest
Whilst in our dreams we play games of flesh