“The world is so full of beauty,” I say to my lover
As I pick lint out of his unkempt hair. He is
Not looking at me, not as I see him.
“But you’re the most beautiful,” he breathes,
Not looking, not seeing.
I smile, lie on his naked collar, & feel
His sultry body warming my cheek.
From this angle I see his scars from the wreck
He mentioned a few weeks ago.
My thoughts are not of that.
Instead I am studying the pattern of the hair
That trails down his stomach. There is
No order to it, but the strands curl tightly
Like the strings that bind my being.
He pulls my frame to fit his, & I am uncomfortable
And settled. He is kissing me now,
While I recall the embrace of the lover before
Wondering if I will always be this way.
Moving gently, I recoil from his passion and
Whisper, “You are…!!!”
Romantic Love English Poem Settled the Poem for Her