Name of Love

In a moment of unguarded pleasure,

your name slips

from the lips

of my heart,

like an old language.

I cradle it

to my bosom,

cherishing the diminutive;

and all the love

that is stored

within the compact archives of my form

arises to caress

the familiar syllables.

I have tried in my communications

and myriad poems

to elucidate

the effect

you have had on me.

Yet perhaps there will never be enough words

to describe

how deep

you have entered me.


2 thoughts on “Name of Love

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