While he lies naked next to me,
after a night of letting loose all the things
we should have kept inside,
while his parted lips seem to breathe
in the scent of a 100 dreams
and my hands still linger in his gorgeous, dark hair,
I wonder for the 1000th time
"What have I done to you?"
And in the rippling air surrounding us,
blessed by the glorious smell of embracing the wrong
and forgetting about the world,
I can hear her soul crying in pain,
"What have you done to me?"
