I need to write you a love poem.
No Maytime and flowers.
No June and moon.
But smoldering with passion
And heated desires
so much so
It will slow down time itself
to a motionless crawl
dragging out
the seconds into hours
Until you return to my bed.

Filling your thoughts with
Desire and lust.
As dangerous
as the surging rapids
of the mountain rivers
after the winter snow melts.

So intense
it burns away propriety
And we will feast
on its wild ancient flavors.

So encapsulating
upon reading its words.
You will unfasten your hair
as you drop everything else
and run to me.

And when we meet
No words
No words
No words
Let's not waste
our breath on words.