You ignite the romance of my dreams. I wish to encroach your lips with my tasty sandwich of perfected rosemary teat. I'll make your brain immune to my soul so you become out of breath when far from your source. My toes will python your emotions, make you feel good with motions that can't be found in Neptune. Oh! my Fairy prince, should I Massage those fire clay masculinity and blow your mind out of its organ? I'm devoured by the moans of your consistency. Devoted to the strings of your intentionality. Should I delineate your cubes of grip so it illuminates the lines of storytellers? Or are you too shy to tell the world that, You're the heel of my heart, the calf of my stamina. The spine of the moon and the Larynx of the dark stars. Honey! I'll let you dance to the rhythm of Calla Lily while I paint in the beams of Zinnias.