Sometimes, I wonder if she's made of sunlight,
Because I can't get enough of her touch on my skin.
Other times, I think she's made of stars,
But then I remember, we all are.
Maybe she's made of moonlight,
She always has a part of herself hidden.
She may be rain,
So soft yet so strong.
Whatever she is made of,
I want some of it,
I want some of her love.