He is more than a hero 
he is a god in my eyes-- 
the man who is allowed 
to sit beside you -- he 
 
who listens intimately 
to the sweet murmur of 
your voice, the enticing 
 
laughter that makes my own 
heart beat fast. If I meet 
you suddenly, I can' 
 
speak -- my tongue is broken; 
a thin flame runs under 
my skin; seeing nothing, 
 
hearing only my own ears 
drumming, I drip with sweat; 
trembling shakes my body 
 
and I turn paler than 
dry grass. At such times 
death isn't far from me