I ask for nothing except your soul intertwined with mine.

Tell me I’m beautiful on days I look in the mirror,

Locking gazes with my reflection,

And lost in my own eyes, unable to prove I once knew my way back to the greener side of the grass.

I colonized the land with drought,

Bearing the gift of a bountiful harvest.

You planted your feet on my doorstep,

Famine aching in your heels.

I have a soft bed of moss if you don’t mind getting your hands dirty.

Dig within my garden to unearth my unwavering affection.

I’d die before letting you think the river of love that flows through me has run dry.

I can read between the lines of double entendres and mind games.

Oh, but, you never learned how to speak my language.