Her Poem by Ibn Ali

Her crystal eyes,
Those pools I swim in,
Bathe in,
Drown in,
With no inclination to being saved,
Hope and expectation,
I see it in how she looks at me,
She stifles her professions,
But how telling is a loving gaze,
Betraying smile,
The aspiration when she says my name,
Frustrated sighs,
With both hands cupped I hold her heart cradled in my palms,
And mine in hers,
When the sun (through valleyed curtains) stirs my soul's return,
Thoughts of her hasten to greet it,
As if we didn't part just last night,
Seeds are planted,
Amidst lingering goodbyes,
Longing stares,
Which stem from something said,
One small gesture,
A kindness overlooked,
Insecurities put to bed,
My would be wife,
A fantasised wedding night,
And days of wedded bliss bolster the pyre,
Indulgence is lost in carnal manumission,
Freedom of desire,
The brightest lights cast darkest shadows,
Doubt resides in every corner,
There's a whisper in every crevice,
But for every whisper there's a shout that's hers, that reassures,
There's something in her smile,
Some intoxicant that calms my nerves,
Intangible
An elixir in her words,
Each noun, every verb,
Sometimes unsaid but heard,
There's just something in her,