skin of the night

like a moth she moves to the red light, her blood warms and boils there, she skims the sweat like a new milk, as pops the buttons of her wet blouse, oh queen of the night!, well she is deep inside!, she is haunting me!, all of her soft parts call to me, she could be mine. she digs her nails into her naked chest, miles of veins fan out like a road map, she pulls back the skin to show her ribs, that twinkle like shooting stars. oh queen of the night!, well she is deep inside!, she is haunting me!, all of her soft parts call to me, she could be mine.