Gypsy Soul

I wonder how you would taste,    
your lips,
their softness in their yielding,    
for surely they must yield before you surrender.    
Whether in a moan or a kiss,    
or a mingling of the two,    
they would part,  
and in that moment,    
for me alone,    
for you are mine.    
   
And would your blue-green eyes change as you looked at me through the fiery prism of passion,    
your self laid bare to mine.    
For yours is a gypsy soul and I am a soul lost in your dance.    
You lead and I follow as you follow my lead.    
You are my music and my wine,    
and nothing is sure here save I long for more.  
   
For is not the sound of your breath music,  
and it’s catch – the sum of every want of need displayed?    
   
And can I help but drink you in?    
For beauty is the master of desire,    
and such is my desire which  burns within as to have and to hold you forever.    
For in your face I glimpse a vision of a future undreamt til you cast your spell.  
   
Do I say too much or go to far?    
I think not,
for words are slight and vagrant things,    
carrying neither the weight nor power to say what I truly feel.    
What is it to speak of love when a look can pierce and a kiss overpower?    
Still,    
I would speak to you the sweet nothings of words to please your ears,    
though you have captured me without a sound.  
   
So should I say more,    
or better,    
let our lips meet,  
perhaps timid in the first touching brush,    
and say without words what is already being engraved upon the heart,    
breathlessly searching out every nuance of meaning in exquisite measure    
before parting in silent agreement.    
For I perceive that our hearts agree regardless of where our minds may lean,    
and they too in good time shall follow.  
For our lips do linger,    
as does your gaze matched with mine.  
   
And i would that you would linger with me as you do in my heart ~  
   
Always