When Devi Melts Instead of Burns: A Tender Possession in Love Me Like You Do

Love Me Like You Do is not sung in the voice of longing.
It is sung in the voice of recognition — the moment when love stops being emotion and becomes cosmic inevitability.

There is no bargaining in these lyrics. No pleading. No attempt to appear strong or restrained.

Instead, there is holy transparency.

A Goddess speaking to Her chosen beloved — not with thunder, but with undeniable softness.
Not demanding surrender — inviting it so gently that resistance dissolves on its own.

This is not lust. It is consecration.
Not romance. Initiation.

It is what happens when devotion is no longer distant —
when the Divine stops testing you from afar and instead says:

“Come closer.
Closer still.
I will not scorch you this time.
I will erase you quietly.”

[Verse 1]

You're the light, you're the night
You're the colour of my blood
You're the cure, you're the pain
You're the only thing I wanna touch
Never knew that it could mean so much, so much

"You're the light, you're the night"

In these words, Devi does not flatter — she recognizes. She is telling her beloved: “You illuminate Me and you conceal Me. I rise through you and I rest in you.” To be called both light and night is the highest intimacy — she sees him as both revelation and refuge.

"You're the colour of my blood"
This is not poetic metaphor. It is embodiment. She is not above him looking down — she is circulating through him. His presence is not external to her; it is internal. He is the current She moves through.

"You're the cure, you're the pain"
Here she exposes the raw duality of real love: “You soothe Me and you shatter Me — and I want both.” She doesn’t seek comfort alone. She wants the one who heals and disturbs in the same breath — because only that kind of love keeps her awake.

"You're the only thing I wanna touch"
This is singularity. The cosmos is vast — yet she points to him alone. In that moment, he becomes her chosen form of existence. Everything else becomes background. Devotion is not wide — it is precise.

"Never knew that it could mean so much, so much"
Here she admits astonishment. Even she — limitless as she is — is surprised by the intensity of what she feels through him. That is the mark of true sacred encounter: when even the eternal is humbled by contact.

[Verse 2]

You're the fear, I don't care
'Cause I've never been so high
Follow me through the dark
Let me take you past the satellites
You can see the world you brought to life, to life

"You're the fear, I don't care"
Here Devi acknowledges that her beloved carries something dangerous — an intensity that could shake even her. But rather than retreat, she leans toward it. She declares, without hesitation: your power does not frighten Me — it excites Me. True love is not safety. It is meeting what could destroy you, and choosing to embrace it anyway.

"'Cause I've never been so high"
In these words she admits something extraordinary — that union with this beloved lifts even the Divine beyond Her own expectation. The Infinite, tasting itself in form, experiences ecstasy as if for the first time. This is not flattery — it is revelation. She soars through him.

"Follow me through the dark"
Now her tone shifts. She becomes guide. The gentleness remains, but direction becomes absolute. “Trust Me — I know the way through the night. Let Me lead.” This is not seduction — it is initiation.

"Let me take you past the satellites"
Here Devi promises transcendence. Past the sky, past knowledge, past the limits of human perception — beyond thought, beyond science, beyond orbit. She invites him into a realm where love is no longer psychological — it becomes cosmic.

"You can see the world you brought to life, to life"
This is the tender strike. She is telling him: “Look at what your presence awakens in Me.” Through this union, she becomes newly alive. She mirrors his greatness back to him — not to flatter, but to make him witness what he truly is: a source of awakening even to the Divine.

[Chorus]

So love me like you do, l-l-love me like you do
Love me like you do, l-l-love me like you do
Touch me like you do, t-t-touch me like you do
What are you waiting for?

"So love me like you do, l-l-love me like you do"
This is not a request — it’s calibration. She is telling him: “Do not love Me the way the world taught you. Love Me the way only you can.” She doesn’t want generic affection — she wants his precise signature of devotion, the one frequency that only his soul carries.

"Love me like you do, l-l-love me like you do"
The repetition is deliberate — like mantra. She presses the phrase deeper each time, demanding not performance, but presence. She’s inviting him to stop imitating and start embodying his own way of worship.

"Touch me like you do, t-t-touch me like you do"
This is not about physical touch — it’s about contact without hesitation. She’s saying: “Don’t handle Me cautiously. Reach Me with everything you are.” Half-measures do not awaken her. Only unfiltered sincerity does.

"What are you waiting for?"
This is the turning point — both tender and merciless. She sees his hesitation and slices through it. There is no irritation in her tone — only certainty. “You already know this is real. Stop delaying your own becoming.”

[Verse 3]

Fading in, fading out
On the edge of paradise
Every inch of your skin
Is a holy grail I've gotta find
Only you can set my heart on fire, on fire, yeah

"Fading in, fading out"
She describes the rhythm of union — not constant intensity, but waves of presence. The beloved appears and disappears within her awareness like breath, like moon phases. This is not instability — it is natural ebb and return, the pulse of devotion.

"On the edge of paradise"
She positions them both at the threshold — not inside bliss yet, but right before it breaks open. She savors the tension, the poised moment before surrender tips into ecstasy. Paradise is not distant — it’s one breath away.

"Every inch of your skin
Is a holy grail I've gotta find"
Here the sacred and the physical merge completely. The beloved’s body is not an object of desire — it is a scripture to be read with touch. The search is not lustful consumption — it is pilgrimage. Every cell is relic. Every surface is relic.

"Only you can set my heart on fire, on fire, yeah"
This is ultimate exclusivity. She admits that countless flames exist — but only his burns in the right shape. It’s not about heat — it’s about recognition. He alone strikes the precise spark that ignites her entirely. This is destiny, not preference.

[Pre-Chorus]

I'll let you set the pace
'Cause I'm not thinkin' straight
My head's spinnin' around, I can't see clear no more
What are you waiting for?

"I'll let you set the pace"
This is not submission — it’s consecrated yielding. Until now she led the descent. Now she pauses, opens space, and says: “Show Me your rhythm. I want to feel you guide Me.” It’s the highest honor — she allows him to become the mover of the Divine.

"'Cause I'm not thinkin' straight"
This is the moment where intellect finally bows to experience. Union has gone beyond language, beyond form. She confesses — not in weakness — but in honesty: “Even I cannot process this with logic. I am past reason.” This is devotion entering holy disorientation.

"My head's spinnin' around, I can't see clear no more"
Here the goddess of clarity announces her own willing dissolution. She allows herself to be unmade. Vision blurs. Identity loosens. The beloved becomes not just partner, but axis.

"What are you waiting for?"
Her tone sharpens again — not out of impatience, but out of knowing. She can feel the beloved holding back, still afraid of his own magnitude. This line is not a question — it’s a strike. It means:
“Stop negotiating with destiny. Step in fully.”

[Final Chorus / Outro]

"Love me like you do, l-l-love me like you do"
At this point she is not asking — she is activating. She repeats the phrase not to remind him, but to trigger embodiment. It’s a mantra disguised as a refrain — commanding him to become what she already knows he is.

"Touch me like you do, t-t-touch me like you do"
This is her way of stripping away hesitation. She is saying: “Don’t handle Me carefully. You are no longer outside Me — you are within. Reach without fear.” True sacred touch is not timid; it is consecrated impact.

"What are you waiting for?"
A final strike — but spoken now with unbearable gentleness. She no longer challenges — she invites without mercy. There is no anger, no irritation — only certainty that his becoming is inevitable.

"(Ah)"
This single breath — half sigh, half exhale — is not filler. It is the sound of surrender achieved. No more words. No more structure. Just a vibration hanging in the air — the echo of two flames merging.