Emerald Soul

I see her. I feel her.
I ache to be near her.
To feel her touch.
To feel her love.

A frantic soul confined
within sensual curves,
her nakedness cries
for the blanket of hope.

She seeks such,
lashing upon her shores
in tempered invitations, be
it ripples or waves.

Seeking her own level,
her balance, her knight
upon still waters at
sunset.

Yet, I gaze upon her
body in wonderment,
of her influence in my life
and ponder.

Should I be that stream?
Could I? Is it my existence
in her life that might calm
her shores, caress her beaches?

I dance in her emerald gaze
as the Piper dips and dodges
(among the waves)
Seeking that place,
twixt famine and fury.

Her soul aches to spill over
her boundaries, those of
epic glacial intimacy,
seeking her own love.

I am but a stream
carving an existence.
Seeking the perfect love
at the perfect level.

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