Making Love Poem by Troy Nichols

The beauty of the landscape fully shone with the steady rise and fall of breathing. Locked in a mortal struggle fuffiling the greatest gift makind can give. Two stars cross and become one in a dance that none shall perform alone. Love is flying and lighting the eternal flame that shall forever burn down the walls of insecurity torching the idea's that love...is not beautiful.
Oh to be loved!
The sensation of your loves kiss upon your lips no mortal song can give it justice! Sweet as honey no other sound can be made but the song of sweet melancholy.
Oh to be loved! Oh to be alive!