Pulling Touch (Poi Dog Pondering)

You are a butterfly and my eyes are needles The cold has your breast and my hand is on fire You resting and reposing My veins are pulsing And nothing can cure me, but your pulling touch I'll stretch you out, and lay alongside you Run my hands along, devour and divide you. In the cool of the night, under a rain-pelted roof Beneath cotton white linen, our love is spilt You are a cup that I hold by the cheekbones, I pull you close and I drink you up. I'll stretch you out, and lay alongside you Run my hands along, devour and divide you.