The arch of her lips illuminates the room in a flash of beauty.
I'm drowning in her waters and hope to never see the shores of her brown eyed sands.
She isn't Hindu but she can call me Vishnu.
I'm not either but I'd let her do it.
Because I want to be a god in her eyes.
Just as she is in mine.
Her waves flow onto my sands, over the shores of my heart.
And her Verona sea waves touch me in ways you couldn't imagine.
Try and picture a deity descending from the heavens and dealing you a deck of cards that could remove each and every corrupt spirit from your mind.
Then departing with a kiss and immaculate words of inspiration. 
Then multiply that same feeling by the multitude of the universe's ever stretching edge.
Even that feeling of universal elegance cant compare to the way she fuels my artificial heart.
Wire and glass plus stainless steel.
Now I could imagine how I'd feel.
If I could find the words to put her milky soft skin in my arms and penetrate her grace with vocalization of unrequited love.
She would already be resting upon the pedestal on which she belongs.
Every time I get the urge to go on a spurge of passionate release.
A stronger force holds me back and leaves an everlasting pain in my chest.
Truthfully, I'm not sure which is better, living with the pain, or releasing my demons and granting her access to my memory banks.
She may feel free to deposit herself or withdraw.
Though only one will truly sting.
The scorpion without the stinger.
The crab without the claws.
She's the fish whom rules the seas.
I've drowned within her waters and I'm ready to accept each drop. 
Breathe in, and fill my lungs.
I've reached the shore of her brown eyed sands, and I can finally breathe her air.
So why is it that I'm still drowning?