i need not your voice
to sway or dance,
  just the mere sight of you
   muted still in distance

a bamboo in the
    wind

i need not the air of you
  to float or wind-hover
  past the trellises that separate us,
   just the heady fragrance of your
    entrancing thrall

a call of wild in
   the elaborate dark

i need not the wine of your stare
   to inebriate myself
dizzy with the fine mirages
  of your clamored presence,
  just the thought of you
    infinite in me, pattering the roof
    under many a bed that i slumber in,
  that lewd yet saccharine rhythm
    announcing your coming

     and going,
  like a nascent furl of smoke
    from a match-flame gone,

   eloping with you.