I love you without surmising 'why', your passion sets pon dusky distances betwixt & 'midst quartz glass spaces, where scented phases astir moon glow and impassioned fireside involvement madly erupt above obscure air castles, beyond a swept away briny rendezvous of crystallized darkly essential marrow, like wildflowers penchant for Spring blooming 'tween summoned fiery March snowdrifts' lashing bout ignitable flurries amongst wind's orgasmic undressing, farthermost indulgent sundown piques regaling its worth with naught but those magnificent moments in timely conception, whence endearment yearns to be evermore Inspired by Pablo Neruda - - Sonnet Xvii