This Must Be Heaven

Eros, thou art quick to comply
Not an inkling had that lust
Could spring in me, I don’t deny
Suppress it should I, if I must?
I should think not, I cannot lie
But pray that thy spell may last
‘Cause Chris is mortal, so am I.
Tell me, this isn’t heaven, I trust.

Your touch, Chris dear, sets me afire,
Caress on, sensuous hands, ne’er stop.
Let cherub bring and play his lyre,
Let songbirds sing on cherry top’
Let Cupid launch his arrow’s ire
Whilst meld, flesh-on-flesh, till we drop
On Nirvana’s lap of desire.
Is this heaven or junior hop?

Your lips meet mine, our tongues entwine,
Oh, my, hold me, let not release.
Hot am I like summer sunshine
Nymphet I’m not, no need to tease.
Heartily must we drink this fine wine
Or shortly our prancing hearts cease.
We’re on cloud nine, ’tis so divine!
Tell me, this must be heaven, Chris.