Sarah, I'm sorry, my whispers confess, In the realm of love, you are timeless finesse. Your beauty, a canvas of grace in the air, Frames a portrait of night in your dark flowing hair. The moon weeps with envy, the stars lose their glow, For deep in your love, my heart's tethered so. I'm wrapped in its warmth like a soft woven glove, Sarah, I'm sorry; I love your pure love.