Love fucks me in ways even lust would envy, With whispers that linger, caress and dishevel me, A tender storm in the quietest nights, An earthquake of breath beneath sheets of delight. Its touch, an artist painting on bare skin, Colors bloom where desire begins, Each stroke a shiver, a melody played, On heartstrings taut, in reverie swayed. In the dance of eyes, secrets unfold, Promises kept in embraces bold, Lust watches, envious of love's gentle might, For even the wild bows to such a rite. With every sigh, in every fleeting arc, Love's fire does burn, a luminous spark, Consuming the soul in a sensual embrace, Etched in eternity, an indelible trace.