In whispers of velvet, love carves her mark, A tempest of promise that shatters the dark. Her touch is a sentence, her breath a decree, In silences deeper than oceans or sea. Where lust is a comet that kisses the night, Love is the universe burning so bright. In rhythms unspoken, her verses unfold, A language of fever, in sonnets of gold. She owns every heartbeat, each tremor, each sigh, A vow that's eternal in the blink of an eye. Love fucks me in ways that defy mortal art, A spoken-word epic engraved on the heart.