Lust and the other one

The mountains of monks and celibates,
Do they tell of you like we do?
When the arms of my passion caress from bottom to top,
Cultivating goose pimples as they travel my hairy skin.
I am awed at my orgasm, the liquid become stars in my night
That twinkle morally at a closed eye distance,
And now, I flee from my reflection.

Twinkle twinkle, wrap your head around me,
Wound your thread around me,
I am knitted to you
Like the K in Kyle, we are inseparable,
Pray me to nihility, then open your eyes
All the things you love are tied to my guise,
My compeer, I am not lust, you are.

LARDO