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In the spell of your surrendered charm,
my senses surrender without further resistance
to the ardent potion of your lips, an essence
that leaves them captive, conquered by your spell.
My longing hands seek to lose themselves, filled with desire
of desire, in the curves of your enraptured silhouette,
silencing rational protests that daring ones
were born, by your subdued filters of love.
It's a spell, a spell, that ignites the flame
of finding me in your eyes of deep secrets,
flashing the longing of a tyrannical passion.
For those eyes I die, in which my being is inflamed,
when your mouth calls me and on my diffused lips
the echo of that kiss that condemns me to sin.