The gift in having a man

Your kiss is laced with birdlime,
And your eyes burn with fire of passion.
Look at me, and I burn,
Touch me and I am caught.
I know only one utterly beautiful thing,     
My ravenous eye knows only one thing:            
...That is to love you.            
To everything else, I am blind
"I run to you as the traveller runs towards
shade when scorched by the sun"
It was not the cavalry,    
Or the infantry,       
...   Or even the navy,   
But another strange kind of army
That destroyed me,
Striking me down with his eyes of love
I live here miserable and broken with desire,
Pierced through, to the bones,
By bitterness of this god given painful love.
This passion makes my limbs limp
And tramples over me.
Only you hold the cure to the limping,
The passionate kiss and touch of your love,
Some say that the most beautiful thing on this dark earth
is a host of horsemen,
others that it is an army of foot-soldiers, 
and others that it is a fleet of ships;     
But, I say it is what you love
And i love the gift bestowed upon me,
The gift in someone to call my man...