Perfect as the Day is Made

A poem discussing the effects and changes wrought by love

My hand runs like cool water
over petal over her cheek ,
and the light of her eyes
is mysterious still as the day
we met
Vexation means nothing
when,
            patient as spring,
words flow from her lips
like snow falling,
calm
            as evening’s silent embrace
To love
is to abandon the self
and be born again,
perfect as the day is made