Ink And Reason

Amidst the contours of your lips, a cycling tour
Around my heart, emotions pedal, swift and bold.
Each curve, a winding path of whispered desire,
As if love itself conspired to set them on fire.

And in the rhythm of their tireless ride,
A question blooms, impossible to hide:
"I love you..."—unfinished, yet profound,
A mystery waiting to be found.

So let the contour lines trace their course,
Across the landscape of our dilemas,
And may the answer, like a hidden gem,
Reveal itself when lips meet lips again.