What sweet torture after all, to stand here in the wind, to fall

My restless mind is running wild,

Beyond the strength of my denial

Mocking words that I abhor –

I want you, I need you, I am yours.

The breadth of your shoulders

Has made me bolder –

There is nothing of my desire

That is not fed as fuel to fire.

The curve of my back whispers free

Of sinuous movement, of ecstasy

The parting of my lips suggest

That they are yours, and all the rest

Of what I am, pulses fiercely as it can

To call you in, oh wanton man

You who have stripped me of my pride

And left me naked at the wayside

Trembling now with open fear

That you will go and leave me here

My yearning heart a lone wild beat

On this cold and dark and windy street.

How is it you can twist and turn

And make me weak and melt and burn

How is it you have conjured me

Into a wild raging sea?

But what sweet torture after all

To stand here in the wind, to fall;

To surrender to this ancient call,

To love no matter what befalls –

This call that I can not resist

That woke in me at our first kiss

That asks of me to simply be,

That urges me to wait and see.

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