A Poet's Weakness

But I wanted so desperately to tell you
that your eyes are like rainbow-tinted throwing stones
and your laugh inspires a pleasant rattling in my bones;
that the way you speak reminds me of a lullaby
on summer nights where the moon is at some lovely high;
how your structure appeals to me like babble to a brook
and my patience looks eagerly for new weakness and nooks;
and how
your drumming heart,
your bitten lips,
your rough skin,
give me feelings of
humming like a violin;
and yet I was so afraid.

A penny for your thoughts, my dear;
toss it to the fountain
that lies inside my eager ears.