He looks at her with eyes that see

Not just the soul, but leagues past its depths,

To all the wheres and whens it has ever been.

He tastes her flesh and it is is power, and it is grace,

And it is warmth.

He feels her body wrap around his and knows

That it is as it should be, for they are two,

And yet less, and yet more.

He breathes her in and his lungs are filled

With air not just sweet, but hearty, and nourishing.

He speaks her name and it is like honey on his lips:

Warm, sweet, soothing, careful, and all

That he could ever need or want.

And when she says his name, it is like the cool breeze

Wrapping his shoulders on a sweltering day,

And as the song of Spring’s first robin.