Storm Passion Pleasure Pain

Life without passion? I'll have none of that! Tempest, bend the tree and break the bough! For me the tripping heartbeat, sweating brow, Your eyes to mine menacing as a cat! The midnight tenor sax cries out the long Ago sweet song that urged your passion on, Long cool lady's fingers, nails of crimson, Locked loose behind your neck. Could this be wrong? For others, the calm center, typhoon's eye. For me, the hurricane, the swirling storm. The thunderstriking anvils rising on warm air! My lows be low, my highs be high! Give me pleasure's pain 'til I would break, If joy, unmitigated, be its wake!