The Scholar's Passion Poem by Amy Sutton

My love is a visible secret.
Everyone knows her and no one knows her but me.

She whispers to me by day and sings to me by night.
She is my lost hour. She is my relief.

My hands know every part of her.
They caress the curve of her spine.
She opens to me. She tells me her breathless secrets.

I measure her heartbeat with my fingertips;
I set its pace.
She lives and dies in my arms;
She is reborn at my will.

Her body is her sanctity.
Her perfume is knowledge.
I yearn for her.