THE CANDLES ARE BURNING

The candles are burning
while our heads are turning
to pursuit of pleasure,
with the fullest measure
of love-lust's outpouring,
not one-sided 'scoring'.
In a room that's darkened
on nakedness starkened.

Once I have pulled away
your thong, then hands free stray.
On our skins the light shines.
Our curves, Nature's designs,
are blending into one
state of union.
I pick you up by rump,
lift you to ledge, then hump.

My tower of power
in your opened bower,
your back's to the window
turned on the street below,
not knowing or caring
you're in moonlight baring
your skin against the pane
as my thrusts you contain.

As my head you kiss round,
my eyes can glimpse the ground
at foot of the building
in which we're lovemaking.
People pass by walking,
too engaged in talking
to think of looking up
to our window side tup.