His touch, His smell
No one can compare;
His mind,
so bewitching and aware;
His tongue,
like magic
crossing between lands and onto valleys that parts the mountains
as the sun sets and there leaves me in the twilight,
silently basking in the afterglow
My body, like putty in his hands,
melts when he is near...
And with his gaze —
I could only compare:
Him like the sun and I..
A glacier affected by it
Or as he thinks of me
the flower with plenty of nectar to spare
(Oh dear)

Paperworks and junks pilled into mountains
on top of my ruined desk
“I wonder what had went wrong
for me to stack up such a mess?”

Indolent, Oh! so petulant!...
But still I digress
Saying I didn’t have time
To sort out the cluttering hefty mess

Jesting around with the things that avert my gaze,
Such a child I was,
I paid no mind to it all day

But...
Night came too soon,
and instantly I say...
“When will I ever sort out this mess?”

Perhaps never, but still I say
“Someday, okay?”