Lust is the only devil for me. I see unwrinkled skin, it attracts and makes me stare, like a girl wearing shorts and her thighs bulging out from the folded fabric, because her shorts are on way too tight and her appeal is high. I try to fast forward to see where the strong countour lines will be on her beautiful face, then the wrinkles will come like the amount of years on tree bark.
Oh youth farewell, and only when the moment is to be percieved glorious, it is simply a wrinkle in time, something you cannot hold tangible for very long. Lust hangs like an odor that wont go away because as much as you try to think about how you can have her just for a moment, that simple thought is too strong to think about.