To kill a man till he dies,
You’d have to stare long enough at him
Tears would fall from your eyes
So in pleasure he would swim.
Slow but steady does a magic
Wands would never dare
Rush not, for it might be tragic
Hearts can tell when there is fire in the stare
The whispers of names,
The sounds of passion
The movement of fingers like in games
That my dear is not old fashion
Kisses open four doors
That would leave you with sores.