Poetess of love

I hover
Upon her
Skin
With my
Fingers
Free
From our history
Our future
Right
On her
Spine

She belonged
Only
To herself
And I
Was
Because
My fingers
Couldn't
Penetrate
Much
Of her insight
Much of her
Mind that
Made her
Smile
In its absence
When she
Wasn't
Just
A bottle
Of water
From the sea
But emptied
Back in it
To infinity

But for
That brief
Moment
In time
When we
Munched
Upon smiles
And each other's
Skin
And its fragrance
And its existence
And its manifestation
On our will
Her eye lids
Her mascara
Her plain white
T's
Her toes
Seemed a miracle
And a gesture
Of blessing
From the gods
Within

Her taste
Was of fruits
Unknown
Fruits from
The tree
Of love
Berry like
Wild berries
Lucid
Pretty
Intoxicating
Vulnerable
Delicate
Limited
To herself
One of a kind

Her body
Spoke
Poetry
Through
The way
It explored
Me
Imagine
An island
Exploring
You
And
If you had the right
Eye you could
Even read her
Through
She was
A poetess
Of love.