Love happens at random moments in time,
her chemical pheromones mingling with mine.
It is forever spontaneously combustible,
everlastingly irrational, and irresistble.

It happens to me, and to her simultaneously,
often it sneaks up unreasonably erroneously.
Wrapped in a perfect breast full of intoxication,
and supple red juicy lips of inosculation.

Inoculating my impaired brain to fight off reason,
her drunk tongue in my ear ultimately pleasing.
Her unseen warm places so wickedly entice me,
her cool intrepid breath so willingly invites me.

The bright stars radiate from her musical eyes,
like elaborate pyrotechnics on the 4th of July.
She has questions to answers I already bought,
feels subliminal messages I already thought.

Love; its that strange apple we've tasted before,
locked deep within our emotional repertoire.