[She grins then, wondering if perhaps he is teasing her. If perhaps she fits the image of a young woman who reads too much poetry of love and heartache and longing. In love with the idea of love.]

No, not all of them. Some of them have nothing to do with love. I can show you if you want, since I don't have anything else from that book memorized.

[She doesn't want to get up, doesn't want to leave the warmth of his body and their comfortable position, body relaxed enough to enjoy him with the pressure and demand for desire clamoring within.]