Sighing a contented sigh, he held her hand in his and, gazing lovingly into her eyes, whispered, "I have sailed through the silent seas between the ghostly shining dying stars. I have even wandered in the gloom of the prophet's twilight mountains with holy men and bards. With a horde of humble ghosts I have huddled as time's raging river rushed wildly by. I have traveled far in nameless places just to find sweet rest and comfort in the welcome of your eyes."
She studied him for a moment then rolled her eyes and replied, "Well, you're certainly waxing poetic ... with the emphasis on the 'ICK!'"
Later, as she slept, he dumped a bucket of ice-cold water over her head and walked back into the night.