your eyes open

bursting light

open windows in the morning

and i cannot name you

your dark hair

i want to collect in my hands

count each strand

but i cannot name you

your lips

dark glowing petals of rose

planted on your face by god in a moment of inspiration

making me wish their taste lived in my memory

but i cannot name you

i have never tasted you

i have never touched you

and

i cannot name you

my dark woman made of earth

of deserts

and flowers in deserts

thirsting deserts and flowers

i cannot name you

but if i could

i would take

your neck of swan

the raspberries of your breasts

the grain of your belly

the darkness of your navel

the ocean of your hips

the desert of your thighs

the pinkness of your flower

into my lips

onto the buds of my tongue

breathe you inside of me

and you would live with me forever

but i am too afraid

my dearest

my dearest

to name you.