I think of when she comes
shining, shining up the stairs,
hurrying, hurrying to end our separation.
Without ever being sated, we speak and share our thoughts;
looking at each other, we can't get enough,
yet gazing on each other, all hunger's forgotten.

I think of when she sits -
so proper, so proper, before gossamer curtains,
now and then singing four or five songs,
other times plucking two or three strings.
When she laughs, she's beyond compare,
and when she frowns, it's even more heartbreaking!

I think of when she eats
the look on her face as the dishes arrive,
wanting to sit, yet too shy to sit,
wanting to eat, yet too embarrassed to do so;
taking tiny nibbles as though she's not hungry,
lifting her bowl as if she hasn't the strength.

I think of when she sleeps
trying to stay awake though others might slumber,
unfastening her gown without needing to be asked,
staying close by the pillow and waiting for caresses;
yet, afraid of the gaze of the man at her side,
she's delightfully embarrassed in the candlelight.