Whisper of Union

With the morning air I circle around you. I circle around you with the delicate scent of the potted red rose. The duster in my hand I wipe the wearisome dust from the mirror. Two green ivies twined together come out of the depths of my mirror. The whisper of their union winds through the house. I go back toward the bed. You are still asleep. I take you in my arms: my eyes are your eyes. my hands are your hands. my steps are your steps. my heart is your heart. I shed tears from the joy of your breathing. I shed tears from the delight of the clear scent of the red rose that enfolds me. Not in vain were the struggles of the petals days and nights to grow, to grow, among the thorns. Under the arms of the shirt, the white lines of sweat were cleaned with washing faded away: the sharp smell of union, the smell of embrace, went away from my body under the shower: did you think this is how it would be my love?!...