I don't need my words to rhyme
when I have the rhythm of your love

I don't need to be masked by the shell of my clothes
now that your warmth has painted me caramel

I don't need the rough beats on the radio
when the melody of your voice is chorally divine

I don't need the paint strokes of the Picasso's in the gallery
when the strokes of your lips against mine transcend longer...further

I don't need the romantic fields of England
when your chest depicts the vastness of the Mediterranean

I don't need laws, governments, or religion
now that your love is the unspoken promise of Heaven