The touch of your hands on my skin
Such revigorant sin
If I was an artist I'd paint you all day
I'd kiss your cheeks, and for you I'd pray

I would hold you and trace your lips
I would lie with you under an eclipse
Memorise the days we'd spend on your boat
You driving, and me barely afloat

The summer heat increasing the tension
Dreams taking us to a foreign dimension
Sand in your hair, blown by the breeze
Our hands entwined with undeniable ease

Your tan legs on top of mine
With seashells I'd put in a line
The sea's salty, damp scent
Following wherever we went

You'd tell me your inner most desires
The snowstorm, the vines, the wildfires
All metaphors, fears and wishes
Of stolen moments within our reaches