I stroll into my quiet hall on an ordinary evening. You stand there hands crossed, looking out the window. The sound of my footsteps whisper you of my presence and your face comes to life. You swirl around to look at me, hiding that soft, straight, sable black hair. I near you and you step back to make room for me; we both stand on either side of the window facing each other and begin to chat. I say silly things and you constantly cover your mouth to hide your teeth. We both stop eventually and begin to talk without words. In a flash, my demons and angels merge into an orphic entity, the process so boisterous like an erupting volcano, spewing pure lust all over my soul. I notice you sense that. Instantly, you do your signature "I-am-shy-but-bring-it" move. A look dead into my eyes, a breath skip, posture straightening, a quick inhale as you look down, some hair tuck behind your left ear, pause for a moment and a piercing look at me again. In all honesty, you are more prepared for it than I am. The sudden realisation of the situation hits me strong. My lungs refuse to breathe under the immense pressure but my brain ignores this and puts my body into action. I measure my steps as my legs numben and stop just a foot from you. You hear my heartbeat and I hear yours, both synchronising to an adrenaline pumping beat. My thoughts are loud and you perceive them well. A part of me wants all of you, a part of me wants to wait. With one leg forward, you lean in on me for the last foot of space. My hands move like flowing water around a rock. The bends of my arms are a perfect fit for your curves, the contours from my jaw to collarbone, a cosy haven for your head. A smile that enslaves angels comes into existence as you hear my weary breath's tune of freedom. Your fragrance mixes with mine and a new cologne is born. You hug me tight and ensoul the moment. Eventually, you look up at me with widened pupils and I notice for the first time, between the brownish nuances of your irises, hues of yellow hide in vain. Your eyes glisten in the soft shadows, giving meaning to the Sun's short life; a nervous move, the Sun's final sight, a lyrebird's love song through the night.