I would write my poems on your body,
With words that linger like kisses on skin;
Timeless lines praising all you embody,
And find no shame in committing this sin;
I would give sonnets like warm caresses,
To trace o’er your flesh eliciting sighs,
And pen for you most unworthy verses
Of a love many know but with their eyes;
The fire of our passion would become art,
Raging higher as desire mates with rhyme,
Requiring no fuel but these beating hearts
To defeat assured death and outlast time.
   On flesh and bone the world will take its toll,
   But love grants endless life unto your soul.