Mine eyes emerge from the chalice of dreams,
Drunk is the heart, as a lover, it seems.
Thy flesh is aglow as the glisten of dew,
Every morn, as thy face shines anew.
Enigmatic beauty in thy form,
Clouds all logic,
O’ thy presence is warm.
I care not of ‘morrow or any swift sorrow.
Thy life is my life, and thy strength I may borrow.
My lips cascade thy cloth-less, soft expanse,
Endless intoxications, to entrance.
For when morn turns to eve, and night to day,
I know not the reasons, but only the way;
That thy life fills my life,
And breathless I stand,
With my heart, thy heart,
And my hand in thy hand.
K. Aldaya, 04/10/07
My Soul is a Lock Without a Key 