His jaw was carved out more beautifully and purely than when the sun illuminates the crisp edges of the milky, white clouds as it slowly fades away.

Her eyes appeared out of the darkness in utter luminosity yet with a certain level of deepness. Still, they sparkled brighter than the closest star on a clear night.

His hand was as gentle and tender as a dove, nurturing mine as he slowly caressed it.  

Her hair blew subtly in the wind. Adding a frame to the picture of her face. The ginger tints screamed as the sun touched them. With the help of the deep and steady brown, they settled down.

As he leaned in...

...As I leaned in

Our lips touched

Our lips brushed together

If this intensity doesn't define love, I'm afraid to know what does.

If this intensity doesn't define love, I'm afraid to know what does.