Don't you see a fellow bystander there?
Enveloped by the smoky silence,
Engulfed by the sensuous currents,
Of your hazy cold presence,
Creating waves of heat and light within,
She hesitates to open herself,
Afraid!
That the mighty, stormy wind outside,
Carrying with it the baggage of tradition and
morality,
Might sweep,
And leave her stranded deep in tide,
But if you see in that little cottage,
Situated in the corner of her heart,
You would find solace there and,
An equal zeal to burn,
In the fire of passion
A passion to burn together,
By igniting each other's fire,
And quenching it and fueling it again,
Till both are consumed in that fire,
Crying, laughing, living and dying,
To be born again
