True Minds
How is it that this numbing tingle
Stirs from its place of idle rest at
The sight of your handsome face? Your visage?
How is it that my core hums, quakes,
With anticipation at the sound of your sigh?
Your starlit gaze upon my own orbs
Leaves no want for an enraptured mind.
How is it that I know everything
and nothing
When your thoughts meet mine?
Might you be my muse -
The equal to my soul entire?
Tell me, for I do not know how it can be so.
Copyright © Sheridan Spence | Year Posted 2015
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