When love is a shapeless flame,
It licks at the edges of known,
A yearning that whispers no name,
A hunger for hearts yet unshown.

It dances in whispers and sighs,
A warmth with no form to define,
A mist in the lover's own eyes,
A promise, a feeling, entwined.

Though shapeless, it burns oh so bright,
A beacon in the darkest of the night.