Love Sonnet Liv

What have you more than I, who crave you so? Have I not hands and feet and thoughts to tell? All my sweet senses and fine dreams that swell Rich with contentments that the star-winds blow? Yet do I need you everywhere I go, As if you held me in some stinging spell; And nothing living but yourself could quell The conscious longings that tumultuous flow. I am myself; and yet I cannot move Hand, foot or eye but I am drawn to you. I want you all—dreams, kisses, thoughts and eyes. Dearest, it seems, my very wants would prove I am yourself, dreaming we measure two; And lack myself, that which yourself supplies.