Grazing of clothes

Touching never felt so good;

The moon gave them her blessing

And the stormy wind that was hidden, blew

After, what about after? Well, only that same wind knew.

About what was going on, behind those tainted windows

The condensation of their mouths tried join outside to the knock that the door blows

So did the crossed legs, wishing that like those inner veins, they could learn to pump

All the adrenaline incapable of squeezing any tighter the thighs—

Perhaps was that the reason for the vague thinking, its head was too high.

There were no nails that pierced through the clothes

Their fingers were full being twirled, all the way down to the toes

It was the steamiest scenery, candies inside the car all privately wrapped

Uncovering together the possibility of lusty pleasure, without their being naked.

That outside moonlight didn’t burn, so in their kisses they melted, in one sitting

Between curtained hair and panting, words had no time for stripping

What a quiet night it was, as the wind serenely blew

And after, oh! the quite after; well, like I said, only the wind knew.