I take her in vein
and trip down miles of wooded watershed
and here she is, in my blood,
set there by instincts of flow.

Rooted now in my flesh,
as a means of cellular cycle,
I take this,
a calming, natural, primal drug.

Her ecstasy and my withdrawal are nothing short of
beautiful experience
and divine addiction,
a breath of euphoria which pains me to look away.

Words dedicated mean little,
fluid and merely symbolic.
The ethereal fountain from which they spring however,
that driving instrument of sense,
have emotional and chemical relevance to her.
Grounded heavily in reality and sobriety
is the humble expression of love.