I've seen your smile a number of times,
I have painted you,
etched you,
engraved you,
much that you would become un-withered,
the memory keeps you with me,

I've had the sweetness of your scent
rise with the breeze towards me,
much that I thought I should linger a little longer
when you've been close to me,

I've imagined how touch would feel,
teasingly,
wantonly,
how embrace and cuddle would
comfortably nudge me to unbounded desire,
much that I would long to have you,

I've known you by your shadow,
by its gaze when it has shielded me
from the glazing noon,
I've known you by the void it has always left
when you've walked away,

I've known you
by the turmoil that has always ensued,
when the shade you cast upon me
was removed,
yet the pond's water from where you buoy,
little daffodil,
refuses to stay still,

and the ripples I make
by my advances towards you,
seek to push you further into it,
till I become soaked,
wholly submerged,
by having you in my grasp.