If I am to be fallen in love with,
then let it be a gradual succession.
Let the feelings flow unforced
and natural like rain drops after
a Summer storm.
For the fortress of my body
yearns for the appropriate tenant;
I seek out rough hands,
accompanied by a soft touch
that can deftly intensify the senses.
This soul dreams in watercolors
yearning softly to be molded into
some desert oasis.
If I am to be fallen in love with
then let it be laced in an artist’s
Let Him recognize me in His
own time, free of pressure
or capricious consent.
Love of mine shall ripen
in due course;
I belong to a wanderer
indulging in a hero’s quest
no map to be his guide.
The ifs no longer matter,
for true devotion takes time.