I will dive to the depths of you, the very bottom of the ocean of you. I will walk on the sea bed of your soul and sit there waiting for you to drown yourself in me. I cannot stop thinking of you so stunningly sunset kissed last evening. There must have been fingers of barley gold gently stroking your cheek.

Your beauty renders my pen dry. Beyond a point I have no words. I only want to shut up and look at you until my eyes grow old.  Love is a wild, blind, madness. What greater inebriation exists? And your unspeakable loveliness has turned me into a drunkard. I love you. And I am prepared to say it until your skin is singed with the words by my breath. 

My lips to your navel.
My life in the blink of your eyelids.
Your hair, let it be my blindfold. Let me see the dark of your tresses before my eyes greet the light. 

In your beauty one is a poet. In your love one is a mystic. In your embrace one lays down arms. By your mouth one is transformed into light. Your kisses are vertigo. Your fingers in my hair are failed parachute strings. Your fingers on my cheek are lacerations on the imperfection of time. Your breath is a brick kiln; moulding foundation rocks fashioned from god’s clay. Your fingertips are the entrance and exit of all desire, worship, surrender. I lay at their door my eyes, my lips, and the soft thud of my heart. And your neck… Your neck is a ski slope where daredevils go to die. No part of my being is incidental in its love for you. Each eyelash will meet its purpose upon your body.

Tonight I sleep in the hammock at the corner of your mouth where your every smile unseats me. On the bough of my right shoulder is where I can smell the frangipani of you – through the small hours until light.

I grow anxious for a time when I can show you – “look. This is what it is. This is the volcano. This is the sea. This is the whirlpool, the cave, the fog, the blood, the speed, the gasp, the low moan, the exhale, the steady silence. This.” The seasons exist because the sun and moon stay locked in the eternal struggle of who stays in the sky longer to gaze upon you. And so, they take turns and rejoice in solstices. 

From thousands of miles away my gaze does not move from your face, beloved. I have touched you in ways that have made words get up and leave the room. I have loved you in ways that has made language raise the white flag of surrender.

I tell my beloved, “let me have my way with you.” 
My beloved asks, “and what is your way?” 
My way is to extinguish the desire of ages upon your being. 

This love is an exorcism. Your demons, your goddesses, your rainbows, your storms, your laughter, your moans, your wolves, your nectar, your sweat, your dark blood, your bones, your marrow. 

My potent beauty, my thrashing heart, my deep, pulsing love of lives, drop anchor here and spend tonight with me as close as breath. Now you know – I have let myself be entirely yours.