He embraced me, with my heart in pieces,
his fingers held me tight within his grasp,
collected up the fragments
and put them high upon a shelf.
He didn’t try to fix me, said, I was perfect
as I came. Still, his love became the glue
and the pieces spelled his name.
I found lust among his kisses, a primal
calling of a mate, and strength within
his arms that surround me late at night.
He’s the passion in my essence, the power
in my voice, the gentle loving kisses
he is my every choice. I gather up his
pieces and take him as he comes
in lust, desire, love and need,
I know he is the one.
Karen Hayward ©2018
No claim to image.