Ode [simple]

i wish i could reach into you with something more sensitive than
Senses I Own. i know the beating of your heart with Things that Matter,
the shortness of your breath with I Love You, the fragile ache in your
voice begging for that love returned, the subtle, hopeful curling of
your tongue after screaming adoration, the quickness of your eyes,
fixed anxiously on mine. with infinite inlets, i could not swallow all
of you. but with those i have, i will, evermore, endeavor. even unto my
own salvation.