She sits by the banks of my slaving heart
tossing hair and teasing the breeze,
while my tender achings gather course
through her fingers, like a winding stream...

She tells, then she laughs a hearty one
yet my envy finds her company good.
Her husky voice worms into my head
like a desire awaken in unending loop...

She opens the door and in a rush,
the hinges turn loose on my guarded longings
As I piece together my dark remains,
in she walks and makes my mornings.