Wake me fine sun.
Kiss my skin with your golden lips.
Her taste, the sweetest drips, I call her my nectar.
It is my pleasure that she is mine.
Blessed is the woman most divine who walks this earth aware of her worth, but still gracing me with her presence.
I revere her, held in the highest reverence, though she will tolerate no pedestal place.
I would hang her in the sky, but she demands to know the salt of my dirt.
This gritty earth, I am beneath her, yet still she commands I reach her and know my lover.
Therefore I bloom.