Almost Perfect...

I bask in wonder today, either you know perfectly what a woman wants to hear or what you say because you say, becomes perfect for my too eager ears.

How do you know what I want you to say when I don’t know myself what it is that I want to hear?

How do you manage to ruffle without a touch, say it all without saying much?

If I could just tell you how your words affect me, where oh where would I hide my face flushed in coy shame?

If you would know they have the power to hold me, how would you resist the ensnare?

If you had some idea of how long something you said can stay in my head, would you say it more or sparingly so?

And some days when you walk with me gently holding my hand, whispering sweet nothings, I walk over the mist with your words like a soft breeze playing with my tresses. Every step redeeming me as though I own the ground I tread on, I fly higher than the birds and feel lighter than the frothy cloud and I breach my own horizons.

For when your reason to smile, smiles at you, you smile at the world.

I don’t know then what I like more-to want to need you or to want you to need me like you do.

I ask you of what you think, you smile and say, “What happens in the mind, stays in the mind!” I beam back at the games you play.

And some days I see you as the question and some days as the answer...

And some days you call me the poetry and some days you transform me into a poet...

And some days I become your thirst and some days you leave me so thirsty...