There is a secret place where you and I gaze out a window at a lone tree as it continually comes to bloom and on one branch, a robin repeatedly makes her nest.

There is a secret place where crimson rose petals perpetually restore themselves across our bed, and a solitary candle repeatedly ignites its flame as darkness falls.

There is a secret place where you constantly stride toward me, causing me to lose all reason, all control and all willpower.

There is a secret place where your strong arms repetitively surround my body, yet tenderly embrace my mind, soul and heart.

There is a secret place where the succulent taste of your lips persistently satisfies my palate more than the rarest vintage wine.

There is a secret place where never-ending feathery-soft whispers emitted from your exquisite mouth become an incredibly stirring serenade.

There is a secret place where your repetitive sensual touch is flowing with white-hot passion, yet your fingertips deftly cool my pale flesh with tender assurance.

There is a secret place where I continually lose my body to become supple clay in those magnificent and massive hands.

There is a secret place where, even though you tower over me, your passionate zeal and bedroom language forever lift me to heights never before experienced by any woman.

There is a secret place where only you and I exist, a place where we are together to forever laugh, love and live.

There is a secret place; that place is my unrelenting memory, and if my memory and life should cease, I pray our secret place will continue to live and flourish forever in your memory, my beloved.