The vintage of grapes

Just a short touch of your naked love,
our skins are deeply wetted and thin,
feverish meekness, bottom and above,
we're holy preachers of the sweetest sin.

Heated and hasted thrills of breath,
rejoice in grasp, swelling to death,
hold tight and give me your heart,
we shall together reach the height,
taking greatest tastes of you, my bride,
it's a vintage of grapes, but grapes abide.

Bedroom is darkened, windows are blind,
Curtains are tactful, hiding world behind,
and two haggard bodies are tangled tight,
we don't live forever, so we did all right.

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