Subtle Poem by Lisa Nickle

Not a man of grand gestures
or numerous words,
he makes his love known with his eyes.
They carry it for him
with a strength he dismisses
as though unimportant.

In his gentleness I know him
as no one else
as mine.
Yet when there is a time
for him to be absent
I'm lost
Though I carry on
uncounting the cost against him.
Because why would he know
what it means to be fire
to be slaved to desire
a passionate whim
embodied
to be impulse
in fingertips and footsteps
to be owner of loose lips.
No
He is calculated
informed
Not a man of grand gestures
or words said half-formed
he tames me with his eyes
that carry a flame
flickering a love
a dream most important.