She looks so pure and I can’t help but want to kiss her fingertips. I think it’s beautiful that bleeding red roses are the colour of her soft lips. Her eyes are wide and I greedily dream of the way they would glisten when she cries. When we indulge in lust I feel so intoxicated and I ascend to the skies. When we party we are the epitome of glamour and undiluted decadence. When we make love and she plays with submission, my mind’s content makes sense. I am aching and I am fading when she isn’t here with me. She is a lonely star. Electric, the only one I see.