Her eyes are poetry, and
Each blink of her eyes is a poem.
Her voice is poetry, and
Each of her words is a poem.
Her thinking is poetry, and
Each of her thoughts is a poem.

My love for her is poetry, and
Each of my expressions for her is a poem.
My care for her is poetry, and
Each of my suggestions for her is a poem.
My desire for her is poetry, and
Each expression of my romance for her is a poem.

Our mutual attraction is poetry, and
Each of our confessions to one another is a poem.
Our eternal relationship is poetry, and
Each of our manifestations for one another is a poem.
Our way of talking to each other is poetry, and
Each of our conversations with one another is a poem.

It's not even evening,
And I need to lie by your side.
Sunday devoided of meaning,
My longing comes like the tides—
It starts in the morning
And consumes me at night.