You eyes, like the brightest stars, they guide me home to you.

Your lips, like the ripest cherry, speak the brilliance of your mind.

Your love, were you to give it, would wash over me with pleasure untouchable by orgasm.

I would be your slave, your master.

Your wish, my command.

Your experience, my pleasure.

These trifling things are not enough for you, because you deserve more.

For you, I would do the dishes.