Darling, your love is so steep.

Every day,
I cross your little paths of freckles,
Navigate across your supple curves,
Traverse your succulent lips,
Climb your fiery curls:
Your labyrinthine locks,
the spiraled stairways to your soul.
Alas, every day I lose my way,
And I tumble back to where I began,
Only to prepare for tomorrow's ascent.

I, Sisyphus, yearn to reach your peak.
But dearest, forgive me, your love is so steep.