I write of love because I am of love, of love erst and pure. Of passion and desire a heart for hire, beyoned the sands of time. There are no nights or days, no minutes or hours to count, only infinity for hearts to idle. In these arms a place of rest for you to ever lie, let my soul join your aura and sleep a starry sky. Where whispers are shared and the dream is walked, sated in the knowledge that there are no tomorrow's only forever. And in that forever will be that well remembered kiss. Ahh! Poets dreams