It is more than your caresses,
What you call your passionate kisses,
The things that turn me a mess.
It is more than how you arouse my spirit just by being around,
Way past the sweet things you whisper in my ear,
Telling me what you thing I want hear,
Calling me sweet names, my dear.
More than your charming smile,
That which sets me afloat as if upon the Nile.
More than the lies to me you tell, like
Pulling the moon to my room for it’s light to shine on me alone.
Of which I never cease to believe.
It is more than the emotions you stir up by your touch,
The joy you bring with simple words from your mouth.
Past the piercing eyes, those you use to read my mind,
Coming to know how I feel,
The words I think,
The emotions I hide.
More than the tenderness of your apple coloured lips,
The selectional beauty of your words,
Lyrics to your love songs.
Past the strawberry scented perfume,
There even in my wildest dreams.
More than the twenty love poems you did recite under the full moon.
Past everything explained, obtained and maimed,
A world of our one,
To no one else should it be known.