Poet ...The Woman In Love.

A poet, a woman in love...as I speak your name ..
with words from the past, the words always uttered,
as you hold my hands naked...in your hands
with the magic extolling from you. from your eyes 

they are like deep pools in disguise, waiting to catch-me unaware's 
Unable to pass the migration sensually set by you...every which I look... at you
I touch your fingers as you kiss my face, am mesmerized by you 
the eloquence of the hunger felt, by me and you... as I've not been here before

the thirst, the thirsty sips that I covered you, with my lips  depositing thirsty kisses
as i kissed every inch of you, the urgent hunger as if there's no tomorrow...
that hunger between you and me, its an impossibility .
I worshipping the ground you stand in...as if I took root looking at you 

with the tears the laughter,  forever  in my mind in my heart
the phrases I utter when we meet, & when lovers speak with no words
your kisses sending shivers right through me...as i wake up in the morn
as I look at you my love, and you at me with this un-explicable desire

we have for the other as we speak in the eerie rain... soaking you and me
am hanging on to you with this urgency of calamity,
happening between you and me, this river this monsoon running past me
as I speak , or do not speak, your aware

Am waiting for you to come home to me  
As I stand behind my window waiting anxiously
You as a poet, I a woman in love...looking at you.
secretly welcoming the attention of...  Who's looking at you.