Water

By Hannah Bhullar

I want to kiss you.

  I want to breathe you in.

    Can I taste your soul?

Your love - so sweet,

  I’m sure.

    I want to lap at your tongue

   like the ocean waves.

Let me trace

  your nose,

    your eyelids,

      your cheekbones,

    and your chin.

Stare at me

  as if you want to devour me;

    as if you’ve never felt

       this much love

    before.

Look at me

  as if you want to dive in

    and drown in my warmth…

I want to be

  under your skin.

    I want to close my eyes

      and fall into you —

    knowing you will catch me,

  and never let go.

You are my sea,

   my sky,

     and my universe.

You suckle.

  You lap.

    You flicker

      like a gentle flame.

You reach deep within me —

  so deep, that your love

    sinks softly

  into the trenches of my heart.

You drink.

  You sip.

    You swill.

      You hold me tight,

        but not with violence…

It glows beneath my cheeks,

  threads itself tautly throughout.

    It flows out of me

      like sweet nectar,

       the dew of milk and honey,

  to Pandora’s spring flowers.

I am a vault

  of potions and divinity —

    of fluidity,

      of virtue.

The elements belong to you, Avatar.

  Nature is your godsend

     your loyal follower,

        your nurturer,

   your supporter…

The world is at your feet,

  and so am I.

     Water is me.

       I am water.

I am the glisten by your temples,

  the dribble under your lips.

    I am the droplets

      in the corner of your eyes,

   the passage of your blood.

I am coursing through your veins —

  yet your heart controls me

    with its reins —

      with grace,

    and beauty,

and it’s divine prowess.

By Hannah Bhullar