I place my hands on your skin,
life has a way of being so thin,
leaving me askance for a little sin,
collecting souvenirs for the bin.
I hit my head on your sill,
was looking for a little thrill,
i have a pain you can kill,
is it another wicked drill.
I lose my self within your soul,
reasons lost for my hidden goal,
am i playing just another role,
or slowly shifting from pole to pole.