written by: Broken Montague
It’s 3 o’clock in the morn and I’m on the bed alone.
Years over from the day you said goodbye and gone.
Bitterly summer cold winds make chill my pelvic bone.
Missing each hour we spent arguing ‘bout mistakes we’ve done.
I was left with the fact of you of not coming home.
Echoes of our moan playing in my lonely room.
Caressed and laid me down between the sheets;
You whispered softly, “I love you”; I felt the heat.
Your mouth with ice so cold clenched my skin.
The way you undress me stimulates through my veins.
I barely bite my lips as you slowly thrust me in.
Enfold me so tight inside when you squirt the wine and win.
Lips to lips; we intimately kissed the hard wild night away.
Savouring each and every flare of souls in a French way.
Skin to skin; melted with the steamy friction made when you sway.
Stuck in the sultry memories from that last night of May.
It hasn’t quite sunk in me yet that you’re already my past.
I even did not believe it’ll be ended until suddenly ’twas.
Your sonneted voice and unforgotten name still in my heart,
You’re only now my aphrodisiac every vague, solitary, sensual night.
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