Your skin placed on that mahogany bedstead
as you submitted to me the everlasting lessons from your lower lips
You let drip the knowledge from your life encounters unto the crown of my head
Closed shut the books you've read
Almost letting me in on all that consumes you when the lights go off
You shower me with unbroken devotion, honouring my deepest needs
But I, though content I, I yearn for the fragments of your soul you flawlessly hide
I am certain they are the reason I fell in the fountain of your bosom