Last drop of ink

Love is a silent emotion, invisible to open eyes. But, I saw the naked soul of her enigma - my universal truth. A pristine state of perfection. As her 'silence' whispered to my soul in a million ways - I felt her pangs As her spirit breathed my oxygen, my heart forgot about gravity, feeling immortal in every beat. Now a small flame kindles in her chocolate brown eyes - hotter than wildfire. I see beyond her invisible veil, hiding her divinity, wrapped under, her tanned bronze satin skin. Smoother than a bed of feathers - would to touch it, be a sin? Her fruitful lips of blissful nectar, are an eternal passage, covered in ethereal dew, awaiting my soul with promises for unseen paradisaical passion - a taste would leave one intoxicated. The mind pleads with time to be kind, for the heart to remain patient - for distance to not become an adversary. Because, nothing could define her elegance, in any form of artistry; a poet has no vocabulary, a musician without a beat to his melody, a painter without control in his masterstroke. Her aroma is a rare scent from petals, my hands could never fathom to blossom. Her love is like the sun rays of a new dawn, forever, ascending my heart with warmth. I am her cloudless sky, for her glory to shine, the ripples in her deep ocean - for her to bathe within me. In my quest to be within her embrace, I shall keep the vampires from her door, slay the demons who bring her darkness. Face Satan in his satanic seas. Be the whirlwind in her storm, releasing her from chains of uncertainty. Once, I gazed at the stars, wondering where you were. My musings writing about your arrival. You appeared to end all seeking, filling my hollowness with endearment - became the last drop of my ink.