Such mastery have I not found in all the world,
save at his hand.
In him, in this,
with this love born
of ache and time,
I have seen the face of
a god, and been granted
The natural elevation of love is possession–whole and complete lacking nothing.
Love, never content
steady and sure in its hunger and pursuit.
I want the sounds of our together
to rival thunder.
All I contain, he has harnessed
at the mere mention of my name
tasted upon his lips tongue.
There could never be another I could belong to this way.
There is no space that body and mind could exist where he has not found to touch.
In power, in body, have I given all to him, in power.
(c) Janelle Fallon, 4.2019