A Prologue to Eternity

Perhaps I've searched the wrong spaces...
Ma coeur is wailing like a newborn not given her milk, not quite ready for the tender meat of mature, years deep love the love that marches through time like a soldier having healed battle scars, yet no post-traumatic stress disorder....
The love that turns you over in bed at night, when a touch on just the right spot of your skin lets you know it's time to wind around each other like a vine to unwind and to become intoxicated on rich, full bodied heavy dark red love....
Ma coeur, ma coeur....
When I speak inside the soft corners of your mind and eroticize you without electronic means...