Humming coming from my breast, do you purr because he rests?
Open headed on my skin, whispering: shall we toast more of these grins?
Washing ourselves with our own voices, reminiscing of our naughty choices
Is it simple to be quiet...but we sure enjoy our riots...
Listen to his fingers sit, one by one they sink their kiss
Our palms become tired of waiting; why should only finger be parading?
Vowing words within our eyes, hope one of us will never lie
Easy access our his lip, but I still play that he shall miss
Yearning never leaves, it grows; eyes keeps drinking, mouths stay sold
Oddly even, is our couple; four hands to carry, two lives to double
Unties my worry knots, as he cover me in a comfort of hopeful thoughts
Silently waiting for the night to begin
O what a pleasure it is to be with him