Three weeks had passed before I’d seen
a semblance of herself
she’d come to greet me from asleep
she’d come down from her shelf
She’d impart her knowledge and be seen
by me – and me alone
her music told of yesteryear
I’d hear it in her tone
She knew just when to stay away
and when to show her face
she loved me – more – as absence grew
she was my saving grace
I missed her so – I’d come to share
my intimacy (spoken)
her soft touch and her supple feel
unbounding and unbroken
But as the days turned into night
alone was far away
solitude – no longer here
yet so much left to say
sensualism 