It starts slowly

Like a song in a funeral

Surprising but then not

it fills your ears

fingertips - with thousand needles

and your lips are made of just one word:

need

I need you, want you, crave you

Your colors and body heat and smooth skin

and everything you can give me

maybe even more.

It builds like a crescendo,

Horns roaring, violins screeching

everytime you touch me.