My hedonist healer
Eyes like glistening chunks of charcoal
A RussoMongolian aura that cuts deep into the soul
The fighting heart of a lioness
She looks regal in her elegant dress
She has a sandmill figure
one glance at her and I am eager
She’s spiritually as towering as her body is petite
I draw her on my lap and kiss her ankles and her feet
She looks mentally strong and physically fragile
Her hands and her face arouse me most, they beguile
She’s strong-willed as the Golden Horde
Holding her hand I’m in charge like a steppe Lord
We are boyars in our heart
We are bohemian in our bodies
We are Habsburgian in our culture
We are American in our ambition
We are Irish in our emotion
We are Japanese in our discipline
We are Brittish in our manners
We are French in our romance
We were blending from the start
She hits me with her control with well-aimed volleys
She is the eagle that drives off the vulture
Together we have a liberating mission
You and I have hit the ignition
Just the proper amount of sin
The beast with the two backs adorns our banners
For a moment nothing is missing
when it’s your lips am kissing
