Who Dreams Of You, But Me Poem by moon batchelder

who dreams of you but me, my love?
of you, the way i do?
as if you were some demon, god,
my very own marquis de sade,
my taming of the shrew.

who has as much to give, my love,
in forfeit of her will?
oblivious to count the odds,
your dreams behold, your will applaud,
as if her own includes.

who else is bold, but me, my love,
and brave to face this goal?
when fiercer hearts have given pause
aggrieved and puzzled for a cause
to justify the boon.

who longs for this and you, my love,
witih longing such as i?
as if my soul depend on it,
or part of me less infinite
should die for want of you.

who dreams of you, but me, my love?
my tender habit to intrude,
surrender gifts of ecstacy
while studying the mystery
of who i am with you...

tell me,
who dreams of you, but me?