A fiery passion that wants to make my love known.

How do I press more firmly to his soft lips?

I grow weaker the closer he gets,

But give in to the pressing on part

By quickly parting again.

What a show.

My soft spot is discovered.

Mysteriously giving

Way to more.

Soft upon soft.

Butterflies make room with the comfortable pace.

They're gentle.

As gentle as his hand that's afraid to break mine.

Where's the fire?

Where is here?

Again?

When is it falling in love?

It's different.

My fiery passion lead to fiery passion.

Self love is in love.

There's heat from the close proximity.

I want to melt into it.

This is bigger than me.