Weary and without weapons to defend myself, I have returned to the shores of your kisses... I have found your lips cold and still; they are no longer that volcano of passion that once burned away all my bad dreams— now it is extinguished, leaving only the ashes of a once-blazing fire. I have returned with my lips aflame, longing to rekindle that fire, to reclaim the warmth of those lips that once set me ablaze. It frightens me to see them in such stillness— defeated, battered by a fierce wind, struggling to survive like a cactus in the desert. And I have returned with my lips aflame, longing to rekindle that fire, to reclaim the warmth of those lips that once set me ablaze. And I have found your passion lying dormant amidst the ashes of a dead volcano— a passion that will need to be fed by caresses, by embraces, and by new kisses. I have returned with my lips aflame, longing to rekindle that fire, to reclaim the warmth of those lips that once set me ablaze. I shall retreat into oblivion, far away from this fierce wind, until that volcano erupts once more— the same one that once burned away all my bad dreams. Still, in calm… in calm…
