And the deities of my being discussed why only one person was fit to receive their devotion. 


"The way he runs his hands through me, with idle care and adamant presence. 

The way his fingers dance between my tresses. The way I stand attentive when

I feel him near." 


"The euphonious gifts he presents to us. The fanfare that is his laughter.

The music box that is his whisper. The ballad that his voice. Even the 

lone violin that is his cry."


"The entoxicating, unmistakable aroma that wafts from him to me. 

The way that his aerial ambrosia indulges me and lingers 

when we part."


"The words he provokes from me. Conversations I hold with him. 

The laughter I cannot contain. The way he makes my ends curl up 

when he is around. His taste." 


"His warmth, against me. The way my dermis stands when he touches

me.The feeling of his arm grazing against me. The agonizing 

awareness I have when he releases me from his embrace."


"His semblance. The way I see his face crinkle when he smiles. 

The sight of his blush. His silhouette in the doorway. The pink blur that 

overcomes me when he enters my field of vision."


"The way he stimulates me with his words. The arguments we have. 

Our senseless chatter. His passionate beliefs. Information he shares with me.

Food that he gives me. Insight that he relays to me."


"The fufillment he gives me. The satisfaction his company gives me.

The joy I have when I see him. The sadness I feel when we are apart. 

The pain I feel when we fight. The bliss of his 'I love you.'

His manner of making me flutter and beat hard--

yet slowly, simultaneously."


And so the symposium of my being's gods came to a close, with

each of them content.




This poem is about: 


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