You are my Only;
the One.

My Heart clamors down
from its dusty shelves
over-joyed
pounding  true for you.

My doilies fold.

I see deep pools in your eyes
and swim there
splashing up
huge helpings of my soul.

I'm Metaphor, Simile and Noun
for you;
lift my soul skirts;
stand naked before you;

whip up joyful tear soups;
bless everything you've touched;
anvil stamp
your spirit
to my eyelids.

Yes, it is love;
I think
Love itself loves you.

I know.
Love told me
its True.

It sits quietly with us
floating our souls.