I Blew The Dust Off His Black Velvet Wings

He touched me firstly in the sunlight now I, him secondly, on a moonlit night. Thirdly; he then touched that red, velvet velour. It was then I'd lost count, and we sang amour - amour - amour Like coupled moths, we went passionately mad. It was then I blew the dust off his black velvet wings. O' then my heart and soul danced pattern-plaid. In the weft of his dark pale limbs fittings O' it was then I became his sun burning pleasure. The moonlight I shivered longing lost to become her. And then we rolled all day and night long—together.