The most fragile spot in my heart
knows well your warmth —
breath of the early morning sun
softly kissing sleep off my eyes —
yet you, my hands cannot touch.
The deepest water of my stillness
hears your sweet whisper —
tickling symphony of strength —
yet your voice falls deaf to my ears.
The floating feather of my seeingness
knows the colours of your rainbow —
undulating with the landscape of my desire —
yet my eyes are blind to your face.
The fiercest chunk of my belly
smells your ferocious fragrance —
soothing fire, sweetest death —
yet my nose is impervious to your knowing.
The finest silk in my groin
tastes the ecstacy of your freedom —
wild horses galloping to the sea —
yet my tongue is burnt numb to your essence.
Nothing conceived can ever exceed you,
you exceed everything that can ever be conceived.
I fear
yet I am most fascinated by you.
I can do nothing
but slowly meander through the mists of your mysteries.
Gently drenched by your presence,
I cannot help but love.