→Spitfire

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My man is a temperamental Yogi.

He could turn me to dust in a moment.


Desire, flowing through my veins

Like fire, like silky wine.


The heat of the Sun is in your skin;

Touching mine,  craving sin.


I don't wanna let go; you don't care to echo

What I feel for you: It's fire, spitfire.


I can't let you go. Babe, you are gleaming so;

The light in your eyes, diamonds in the sky


Aye, I'm fallen.


What I have for you is a hunger;

It's ruining, and I'm deprived.


You're killing me. I can barely breathe

My Yogi, my lief, you kill me, so sweet.


You're fire, my desire. Spitfire, me.

Diamonds in the sky, silky wine;


You can turn me to dust in a moment.

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