Lust which turns mornings into nights,
Which turns the night into a whirlwind
And that whirlwind heightens into a cyclone
and that cyclone gnashes skin against skin
until the air burns and what should be fleeting remains.
Lust which is two levels from greed
And leads one to sink into the pits of passion
And forced to swim in the aftermath
Though it burns the temptation to jump back in
is too damn delicious to resist.
Lust which breaks trust into question
And question raises to speculation
And speculation confirms what fear has promised
When one falls prey to sin
Will they ever see past the culmination?
Lust which breaks ties into trysts
And those trysts attract a thousand eyes
And the eyes loom over with hunger
The kind of hunger that never satisfies long
A wave that crashes just as the sand has dried.