I'm going to make love to you.

Im going to scream it, shout it, mount it in my heart so that no one could doubt that my love is true. 

I'll prove it to you.

I'll give you every bit of me; so that every bit of we can be professed, progressed & manifest in this light of loveless beings.
I'll give it to you.
When I make love to you.

Synonymous beats, the pulsation creeps, crescendoing in our hearts.
You see; that's what the protrusion of this inevitable emotion will do.
Oh, but it'll reside soon... Cause 
 

Well, Im going to make love to you.

I'm going to habitually situate smiles and jolts of jubilant laughter upon your lovely face.
Probably something you thought wouldn't take place in this paradigm we dabble in; But you'll be consistently baffled more like dazzled never frazzled by this consistent love that unravels when I show you how us lovers do.

I think you'll get the picture when I finish making love to you.
 

Now, close your eyes and subside into the deep blue. 

Let the water colors of our loving portrait envelop you;

Embellish you. 

In hope that when the tide subsides you'd regurgitate and reciprocate the demise of this lovers loving pride bestowed upon you.

I think I'm loving you.

I think this predestined disposition of continued fruition is no longer a mission but geared more towards completion. 
I'm reaching out to you, for you.

Damn, I think I'm loving you.

And I think I keep saying I'm thinking this because knowing for sure might scare you...
 

But I know I'm going to make love to you;

I know that I'm loving you.

I know that I love you.

And if this scares you, you can sleep in my bed tonight and let the sanctions of our love making soothe you.
 

I'm going to make love with you.