Tell me,
Am I to be compared to a flower 
On a summers Morn.
Laid down in the softness of grassy banks,
My petals, slowly unfold
As your stalk, grows strong and demanding.
Glimpses of each other
Across inches of space
Accompanied by a hint of desperation,
And a burning fire within.
This feeling, 
of unfettered lust,
Falls on stony ground 
Amidst the torturous numbness of separation.
I want to envelop you,
All of you at once.
The heat of the midday sun 
Does not wilt you,
Nor does it wrinkle your petals.
It makes you blossom.
I see, in you, the essence of wilderness,
Of erotica, and of unbridled passion.
I want all of you,
So much so, that my heart aches.
I know you feel it too,
I know you want to reach out
And caress me.
I hear your sighs of frustration,
As your petals fold into themselves;
Another day, lost to the dying sun.
When will it end
When will we touch, feel, 
Share the briefest kiss
And become one.
Maybe tomorrow will be the day
That I will hold you tight.
Our passion will be boundless,
On this grassy bank,
On a summers Eve.
Tell me,
How am I to be compared to thee?