she is

she is exactly
what I want to wake up to
forever,

exactly
what I want to see
on the other side
of my hot coffee,

exactly
who I want to kiss me
goodnight,

exactly
what I wish for
when I am alone
and terrified
in the dark,

perfectly
the vision
I see
when my lids snap shut
for just a moment
and the image
lingers...

she is
what I would draw
if I were the artist
I wish I were

she is
what I would describe
to describe
the muse
that cast a spell
and became
a prearranged thing
in my mind
defined
by certain details
and images
and descriptions
and such things...

she is
what I see
in my dreams

thus
the delightful dread
of knowing
what cannot be mine...

but the stumbling
is supposed to hide
the lament,

the droning on
about mundane things
is meant to distract
from the lust
and the love
and the death
of knowing
the center
of such a passionate
flame...

she is
what should be
and that I never knew
could be
but now
just might be
so that now

she is…

and I am glad.