O daughters of Jerusalem... do not stir up or awaken love until it pleases. -Songs 8:4
In how many ways does it please?

From the morning song
To the midday refrain
In the afternoon waving fronds
Till the light falls over Hathor's domain

Out of burgeoning earth
To the dreams of youth
The footfalls of hoof
Resting bellies in grooves

Reminiscing night visions
Time travelling mind
Words cascading endlessly
From the scent of the pine

To the fruit of the womb
Spin of the loom
Bound touch of stories
The presence of rooms

Know how I feel about you.

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