23

I question sense.

What did you see when you gazed upon me?
A face, less than pretty, whose hungry eyes
Held but one thought for you. And what surprise
Was seen when your visage gave smiles to me.


What did you hear when you listened to me?
A speech, less than practiced, whose stumbling
Held but little meaning. But what meaning
Was heard when your words gave me voice to speak.


What did you feel when you touched my substance?
A form, less than perfect, whose desire
Held nothing from you. And what deep fire
Was felt when your form gave no resistance.


All of my senses are in you entwined
But let love's passion be best sensed through time.