A Love Letter

Forgive me
For not writing to you
Lately.

You've waited through the years,
And I neglect your yearning,
Abuse your leaves,
Corrupt your mind;
I am a wicked owner,
And yet
I cannot lie to you:
I am still your bichette.

You are my god,
My slave,
My friend,
My lover;
You are my childhood,
My elderly years,
My whole life.

Others may wonder
From time to time,
"How could one
So silent
Love words so much?"

Author's Note

First of all, the term "bichette" is French for "little doe." It should be in italics, and I will fix that soon. Secondly, I am wondering if I should switch the last two sections. Let me know what you suggest in the review section!

Reviews

[alan peter kelly]

No switch....my God, my slave and everything before and after.....gorgeous....sensual....a pleasure on the eye and mind....noticed, since my return, quite a number of young women writing in a manner which both satisfies a readers literary sensibility and surprisingly provokes a mind with bold, sensual, erotic articulations... Very much enjoyed this one :)

[JBoone]

I would not switch the last two sections. This is very good. A great read. Well done.

[LastMonth]

The last bit was wonderful.
How could someone so silent love words so much.
It hits home in the best manner.

You have two sides here,
What you are to him,
And what he is to you,

They don't seem to match perfectly. And yet that is the beauty in life, isn't it?
There's a saying I once heard in a song, which I think matches your poem beautifully.

''When the lion loves the lioness, he roars,
When the crow loves the raven, he chirps,
But I love you so much, that I cannot even speak.''

Thank you for the poem, it was lovely.