She asked me if I love her.
Surely she knows
She has opened this rose
I call my heart.
Surely she knows
I would sit with her in the bitter cold
And count snowflakes in a storm.
I would walk with her down dark alleys,
Even into the valley of death.
She is my love and my muse.
And though I can’t see her face,
All faces are hers.
She is my body and soul.
She is life
To be lived
Without reservation.