My soul turns to a trifle

as I catch a mere sight

of your sure, swaying pose

which keeps me up all night.

Ballroom full of dolls

with small fake smiles on,

dressed in the finest silk;

a fine display for alls.

Handled with utmost care

which is not at all needed,

knights kneel before the belles,

despite being plain, unaware.

Each of them is similar, alike,

not twins, rather clones - identical.

Akin to predatory sirens,

luring them in until they strike.

Oh, but if they are sirens then you,

my beloved, are a nixie,

a mermaid from the deepest part of my being,

and there's only so few like you too.

And as the driest land I long to be near you,

for I can see the mysterious ocean in your eyes,

hear the raging water as you speak,

feel the waves of your wild hair around my fingers,

sense the sand covering your whole body,

and taste the salt on your cold lips.

Because;

What's a genious without a mind?

What's a lover without a heart?

What am I, my dear, without you

constantly by my side?