Souls love never die
Oh my love, let me praise your face—
bright as the moon rising over still skies,
and the depth of your eyes, dark as evening pools,
where I long to sink and taste love’s nectar
as a bee sips from a single blossom.
My love, let me praise your soul.
One day your face will wrinkle and fade,
like brown leaves paling in the first frost;
yet your soul will deepen in love, like a tree
that stands through wild winter after falling last leaf.
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