The chamber of your folly has cast an evening spell of virgin desires.
While at my new beginning, I laughed because of the sweet tenderness that was ancient.
The room is stained with a fury that raves the composition of your frame.
Without even touching you; you have pulled me in by the embrace of your S E X.
Almost kneeling before you – I must confess that my mind has made up a story of its own tale, my next move will narrate the grasp I watch.
No longer can I dissolve the sensual practice of waiting, my rising star is engulfed with the foretaste of our cosmos.
I’m moving along the whims to rip and shatter those chandeliers and wallpapers which focus – on your internal sense of design.
We both can feel the numb grooves, that silence begins to serenade within and with a slice of thrust, we can announce a noise above the grooves!
Again and again, you’ve pulled me into the fragile trance that keeps me at the tip of your straps.
My fingers are shouting at the knob that I’m turning clockwise and I hear the loud knocking off your heart.
I’m going to turn counterclockwise to readjust the shifting locks of your combination.
You can’t hide the alarm that is aware of the danger of this focus.
I’m invoked in the present state of burglary and my crimes have bypassed the law.
Listen to Amel Larrieux’s Afraid for a deerper understanding.