I can’t figure her out, really.
She’s like a living poem... the
times too numerous to recall when
I've just existed in a daze,
lost in her verse.
Each night, in that mist of time between
dreaming and waking, I lie in her arms,
a happy captive of her sweet ways...
I wonder who she is that can so easily have
me relaxed and aroused at the same time?
Does she read minds... she gently
cradles my heart in her hands,
I am the wink in your eye,
the whisper in your ear.
I am the shiver down your back,
the tremble in your voice.
I am the horizon in your heart,
the prize in your grasp.
I am the beginning of all smiles,
the end of all tears.
Breath to breath,
she holds me closer...
I know now, I know.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem