its times like these,
when the darkness takes you in and caresses you with her lacey finger tips,
where there is no difference between wrong and right.
and even if there was, we could be wrong for just one night.
the light of the dancing flame cascades over piles of silk and skin,
making the stars shine dark through the window pane,
compared to their glow.
compared to our glow.
beneath the sheets lies our only truth,
the one we hide from in the sun.
the need, the want we try to run,
from yet somehow always come back to.
in the morning light it will be forgotten,
so for now lets live inside this moment,
inside eachother,
where tears and laughter dont mean a thing.
its all the same when you play these games,
we play with the night and the stars and the flame.
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