They both already love:

the woman who laughs unexpectedly,
the woman who remembers trees,
the woman who sleepwalks,
the woman who doesn’t understand jealousy,
the woman who says odd, sincere things,
the woman whose pain makes them ache.

They don’t think:

“I love your soul, and separately I desire your body.”

To them, her body isn’t a separate object.

It’s her.

Her hands.

Her smile.

Her hair.

Her voice.

Her sleepy face.

Her warmth.

For a man deeply in love, the thought is often:

“I love all of you. Why wouldn’t I want to be close to all of you?”

To him, sex isn’t the reason for love.

It’s one of the ways love wants to express itself.