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.