The Love of a Naked Soul
Whenever my eyes rest upon your lips,
I cannot help but wonder—
perhaps God conceived sin itself
only to reveal
the unbearable beauty of forgiveness.
Within the quiet curve of your neck,
I could surrender every fragment of my pride.
Who could have imagined
that a man's defeat
might possess such astonishing grace?
Had I never found you,
I would have remained forever ignorant.
Your fragrance travels through me
faster than blood remembers its own course.
And then I cease to be merely human—
I become nothing more
than one endless breath,
aching for the miracle of your nearness.
Whenever you stand close enough
for silence to breathe between us,
every language ever spoken on earth
forgets its alphabet
before the gentle warmth of your skin.
I no longer wish
for the passing luxury of a single night.
I long instead
to dissolve, slowly and completely,
into every breath you take,
until nothing remains of me
except the quiet echo of your existence.
For love is never born within the heart.
It first sets fire to the eyes;
then teaches the lips
the sacred discipline of silence;
and at last,
it strips the soul so utterly bare
that one can no longer hide
even from oneself.
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