Match Mate

Do you know how water can taste like it’s stale,  
        unable to quench the thirst of it’s own parched throat?  
 
That’s how my mind is feeling right now, plus I’m thirsty.
 
The effervescence of my affection has risen to the surface of my hearts desire.
My passion finds itself smoldering under gentile whispering wings.
 
You have nettled me long enough.
I’m going disappear into the recesses of my resolve.
 
Then you ask me what’s the attraction and I tell you it’s because I am attracted.
My love, I am your true darling, in my mind.
 
Across a time before eternity, we were made a match in heaven by the ancients of old.  
We were meant to be together, it’s why we’re united.
 
We’re like a song from another era.
Like a tune on the wind
       in search of a shoulder to land on and an ear to listen.
 
A bird flying high, a flighty feather.
An angel lost in song, a choir of voices lifting us on high.
 
We sing the same songs.
Your song is my song.
 
I sharpen my wit on your inner sentiments.
We tighten our grasp on each other’s peculiarities.  
 
I hear about your devotedness.
Your attraction is my attraction.
 
Your soul is my soul.
My soul is your soul.
 
I have always had this yearning.
It’s the way I feel about you.
 
I am the mantis of your prayer.
I will starve myself before it’s answered.