His rosewood eyes hold me
as the grip of night
tethers me in,
Spring-breeze releasing
feathered expanses,
Deeper I go, again...
To feel, is to want you
To need, is what I do,
Whenever your vision appears.
Taking me softly,
this dream drifts upon me
Then morning awakes,
when he's near.
sinnaminsun 2010
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