Beneath the silken night, her lips a rose in bloom,
Whispering secrets, a song of soft perfume.
Moonlight dances, a gentle lover’s art,
On lips that speak the language of the heart.

In shadows deep, where dreams and wishes meld,
Her lips, a tale of love and loss they tell.
Each kiss a promise, tender, sweet, and true,
A bridge to moments where skies are forever blue.

The night is still, yet her lips bring a storm,
A tempest of emotions, both wild and warm.
With every touch, the world fades and slips,
Into the magic woven by her crimson lips.

As dawn approaches, a gentle sigh escapes,
Her lips, the guardians of night’s sweet landscapes.
In the waking light, a memory remains,
Of crimson whispers and their soft refrains.