Field of love-blooms has turned sere and, as a consequence, heart’s hope has retreated.
Even the clovers of limerence, more resilient than their kin, have had their souls stomped.
Bow to the bow, quiver for the arrow, and prepare to be hit by Eros-Extreme’s meanest shot.
Blackest heart is now pumping red and amore is both fertilising and testing new lines.
Return of the tingles have picked their next crush—with eyes longingly drawn to Amor-Archer, angel of acute acumen. ; )