Am I Yet Yours Poem by cheyenne cooke

I love your voice, your soft black hair.
I love your eyes and love your stare.
I love your laugh, your cocky smirk, and your simple sense of humor.
You know I do, my dearest.
I long for my hands all through your curls, each treasured strand.
Im wrapped around your finger.
But, Am I yet yours? And, Will you be mine?
When you hold me close and hear me breathe in your sweet scent,
Do you ever think that I may truely charish and love you?
You know I do, my dearest.
Maybe things will work out the way I planned or maybe my hopes and dreams will crumble and pain will be the weakness leaving my body.
As Im wrapped around your finger, Am I yet yours?