Wednesday, January 9, 2013

Sweeter Than Heaven, Hotter Than Hell

Am I dreaming?  Limbs entangled, our breath inhalation breeds magic.   My lover lays supine and supple beneath me as I whisper sweet nothings to her en francais [tu es le beau soleil dans ma vie] as my hands perform their not so sweet hungry manipulations.  Working spells of holy communion, there is a sacred communication between my touch and her willing flesh.  She wonders what I'm thinking, what I mean about this exchange between our skins when I murmur quietly, drinking her in with complete intoxicated worship.  But I refuse to say, this is our time - epidermis and spirit, conversing in this secret language comprised of lusty prayers and her glorious limbs... such devotion to her perfect golden mandala body.

 
Florence & The Machine - Drumming Song

There's a drumming noise inside my head
That starts when you're around
I swear that you could hear it
It makes such an all mighty sound

Louder than sirens
Louder than bells
Sweeter than heaven
And hotter than hell

As I move my feet towards your body
I can hear this beat it fills my head up
And gets louder and louder
It fills my head up and gets louder and louder

I run to the river and dive straight in
I pray that the water will drown out the din
But as the water fills my mouth
It couldn't wash the echoes out
But as the water fills my mouth
It couldn't wash the echoes out


I swallow the sound and it swallows me whole
Till there's nothing left inside my soul
As empty as that beating drum
But the sound has just begun

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