Love Has Rendered Me…

Love Has Rendered Me Senseless

You think I exaggerate -- a conceit,
a thoughtless phrase.

My sight is useless. At night, wrapped
in a blanket cocoon, eyes
tight closed, his eyes still bright
before me, plainly visible.

Ears fail me. What I hear
is sweeter than angelsong,
tender as new leaf,
sun kisses.

And touch -- oh, do not speak
of touch. My skin against his
is holy, an incandescent flame,
an incoherence of desire,
thought extinguished.

His scent -- rain in winter;
woodsmoke, rust and ice.
Nothing human.

Speech is worst of all. Listen
to me now; my words are stolen
away, and all I can say
is love.
Love.

Love has rendered me senseless.

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