Love is a whirlwind
Creating a path I can't win
A hurricane force leaving me bleeding
From the debris, forced upon my skin
Preferring the gentle breeze
Of a tease
Please
Don't judge me by my winds
Or by my words
My predictions, in my verse
Name me after the lady in a category
The first of the year
Aphrodite is coming
Prepare

She holds a box, a sacred place,
Wrapped in mystery, warmth, and grace.
A whisper deep, a velvet flame,
That draws the wild and speaks no name.

It opens not for just a key,
But truth, and touch, and reverie.
A temple carved in silken skin,
Where both storms and dreams begin.

To know her box is not to take,
But feel the quake the stars awake—
A gift, a gate, a world untamed,
Forever hers, though never claimed.

They say it’s wrong, this fire in my veins,
Your touch—my balm, my bliss, my chains.
We meet in shadows, hearts alight,
A kiss, a crime beneath the night.

Let gods forbid, let fate deny,
I’d burn the world to hear you sigh.
Though we must hide what others flee—
You are, and will remain, my Aphrodite