The Word Cloud

Love of my life

You were my stick on the mountain.

I loved you, I always will.

You were my clothing,

Yet for you, naked always.

I liked to caress

Your hair,

Kiss your round nose,

Your soft eyes.

I would look deep into your endless light.

You, my friend,

My sun,

And my night.

Before you I had but wet my feet.

Forgive me, little one,

That my deepest love could not hold back

The flow of blood. And now,

A flower has died.

Chopped at the stem,

Its yellow flame bursting through.

Sometimes,

I could not see your busy heart,

For chiding at your hand.

You loved me,

With the kitchen heat,

With the folding of clothes.

I hear now,

From the window,

The wild calling.

And yet I think I feel your fingertips

On mine, my love.

Only this then:

If and when you want me,

I am yours.