Call Me A Sinner

I am neither a saint nor a sinner but a lover, your beastly lover; hungry to taste your flesh thirsty to drink your honey and inebriated to dream your voice- laughing, crying, moaning and gasping. I am none but a man, your only man. I am nothing but a thirsty soul- thirsty to drink you until your last drop. I am no existence but an existence only in your existence. O my love, what is more beautiful than to think- my every cell made of your flesh my every drop made of your honey my every moment made of your smile my every dream made of your moan? What is more dreamy than dream of you- swaying your hips with beat of my heart sun-bathing your fruits in garden of my heart singing ecstasy of your desire in temple of my soul? What is more enlightening than you dissolve in I, and I dissolve in you in moment of every waking, sleeping and dreaming? Forgive me if I am not a saint; I am just a lover- a wild, ferocious, beastly lover. To you, if that is sin; then call me a sinner.