It is not unlike salt,
My love for you.
It ‘s fine grains season and garnish,
But a lil extra, does spoil the trick.
It is even willing, for your sake,
To brave the skillet and flavour your life.
It stands proud and tall,
Behind mine eyes.
When you clasp my hand,
It breaks out in a cold sweat.
You tasted salt last,
When I passed it during supper,
Our fingers brushed askance,
I never felt happier.