Your hair is silk,
Your eyes are gems,
Your skin is Heaven's touch;
Your lips a gate,
Your breasts fresh-baked,
Who would expect this much?

Your tongue a snake,
So wet and warm,
And skilled at lifting hairs;
Your legs are mine,
As such behind,
I really should beware.

It feels so right,
This wicked night,
You're perfect and you're nude;
I need some more,
I see your door,
My man will make his move.

But in this place,
Your pretty face,
It's bliss but not quite true;
You're fantasy,
You're just a dream,
And I'm not in love with you.

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