Infatuation Poem

This quiet affection daily grows –

A look – a smile – grips me

Like a vine that twines around a

Blooming cherry tree.

Each spoken word rings in my ears –

I take in every note –

A symphony of ups and downs

In which my mind takes float.

Desire stems not from handsome looks,

But thirst of knowing him –

To be the ink with which he writes

on paper of my skin.

This passion courses through my veins

Like fire stalking prey –

Consuming what was once so strong –

A force to be obeyed.

My distant hope is for these words

To linger in his mind –

To stick to him like growing vines

Hold to a tree, light bound.

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