Sinful suns

Your dress was my favorite thing left undone,
melting me down like some sexual sun,
Always hoping to see you go down once more,
worshipping you like a goddess so pure,
body practically screaming to be the sacrifice,
succumbing to pleasure like a vice,
screaming for the sun to rise twice.
Fluids so hot and burning,
always leaving my tongue yearning,
one more taste of the sky fire,
one more slice of it's burning desire.
Casting shadows upon my innocence,
making the days long,
and the nights hot since
I can never forget the sun's song,
one of a fiery passion requiring
the utmost attention
before allowing yourself to go desiring
the one you should never mention.