Passion,
Spring filled adornment,
Rushing outwards as blood from my beating heart.
The beauty of a nighttime city,
When viewed from a hill,
Tainted by the bite of a mosquito,
Always worth the price.

The taste, so sweet, never bitter.
The screams of unbridled lust,
Enveloping the sounds of the music of the world,
The sound echoing through the walls,
And down the halls,
Injecting mankind,
A drug for a needy soul.

She screams for God,
Her joy is discovered,
In the vast realization,
That she is God.
The conducive energy radiates,
Calling Jesus down from heaven,
For a glimpse of eternity,
If only for a second.

Skin upon skin,
Sprawled out upon the earth,
As the memories collect themselves,
Forming the coherent thought of civilization.

Love does not exist solely
In the expression of lustful adornment.
It fair best when combined with a peace only found,
While lying motionless in the grass,
Letting the mosquitoes have at you.