Desire

Yours is the touch I yearn to feel
Yours that was gentle and purely so surreal
Yours is the touch I sometimes desire
Fully aware it will unearth a perfidious unnerved ordeal by fire

And should the wind happen to blow you once again  my way
Dawn would transform into a wretched and most impious of a day
Because I know I could never recapture that desire
When I'm mulling over the formation of the guise I eagerly aspire