Gone with the Wind, he's just my type

Pain originated in the river, poison leaks into the ocean. I hate watching the clouds, they all just pass me by. The wind tends my needs and pleases me. His thrust penetrates my soul. If I wasn't chained, I'd let him take me far away. Away from this place, my island of suffering and confinement. His pleasures fill my lungs, his tongue on mine, I slip in and out. Taunts me with neon blue eyes and red hair. Fearce and  strong, the mountains stand no chance, nor my valleys. He mounts and looks into my eyes with a gaze to entice. A sweat and studded, in silence I surrender. Your perfection I cannot come to pass. To feel your embrace, to let it last. You are my wish to always come back to me, on this lonely island.