How subtle was that stolen kiss
That moist, laced my archer's bow
A tease of illicit tongue
Although nothing ventured nothing gained
I felt at first did not belong

Skillful as it sliced past defences built
Plummeting this butterfly deftly
A hand betwixt my swaying hips
As though a stolen touch
Unsolicited but fervent bliss

Whispered a glance upon weakened heart
Taken with molten grace
Fluidly stealing me back and forth
Although still taunted
By your breath against my face

And now captive, I beckon you
You have your moth within a flame
Wings singed but still aflight
Drawn to those lips again
By that tender stealth so light