prove it to me.

Now that you've danced so beautifully upon the keysThe cobweb corner, the mouse flees,Rapture, the barefoot women on the floorIn silence I will linger. My cheek pinned against gap beneath the doorWaiting for the keys

Heard you singing through the walls, so I retirePatient by the fire, to hear what resonates within the hallsOf your earthly palace, my new exotic sire, and determine if it's beautiful or forgeryreal politik, or Machiavelli's prince and liar

So lead me to the wine dark cellar.Wrap your hands around my throat and squeeze, meBurrow inside my arrythmic crease, pleasePress your heart against my eyesNow let me gaze insideRun my fingers down the inside of your shirt, sleevePress my lips against the sacred skin behind your knees, tease

Repeatedly

I've turned a mansion inside outEverybody else alludes me, and now it is your turn, and so you'll have to prove it to meNever façade was worthy of the mess I found withinShallow, ranks among the deadliest of modern sins

I've turned a mansion outside inA jungle overgrown, unearthing flesh and porcelain boneLocked Inside a prison cell without a phone, but now I knowBeauty is what must adorn the walls around the artists home

For you my fantasy is neither/norAn honest architect would raise a fleshly cosmos to adoreWork with what you have and then from nothing you withholdAnd the treasure delicately laid inside your chest, is of same such shapely beauty to behold

Till I'm enraptured deep withinAnd simultaneously orbiting, your constellated soul.