My Passion
        by Sarah Elizabeth Hume

     I saw your picture today,
     eyes wide and piercing blue like the ocean.
     And my fingertip grazed the smooth, delicate, cloth
     to the place where your moist lips part.
     You gaze back as if you know my secrets,
     as if you are truly there when reveries ignite.

     Still you have no knowledge
     that you are the reason I write again.
     Why my passion flows with ink,
     spilling out onto ivory,
     like black pearls in drifting snow.

     You know not that the mere thought of you,
     a brief pin prick in my memory
     sends my flesh to convulsions and my temperature to
     sun.

     And when I listen to the surrounding silence,
     it is filled with hidden songs that you have
     whispered softly to me.
     And when I watch the dancing wind,
     it is painted the colors of your body to mine.

     These are my secrets,
     my treasures,
     my ecstasies,
     And love,
     Oh, bittersweet love,
     You shall never know of them.