“You flowed into my life…”

You flowed into my life like Tokay’s golden stream

Into crystal insulted by vodka’s harsh sting.

I sighed and whispered, “So this is your dream:

All just as you should be!” Whether I bring

A kiss to your lips or your eyes, it’s all bliss,

Like breathing the air of a warm southern breeze.

And because I’ve found you so flawless as this,

I can no longer write verses with ease.

One writes in waiting, in suffering, in yearning,

In error, in prayer, or in fret.

But to write after saying, “You are as you should be:

All perfect, just right!”—one simply forgets.