If it weren’t for nature I wouldn’t
have your arms that crash into me
like the roaring waves in the ocean
and I wouldn’t be the rocky shore
that admittedly accepts you.

If it weren’t for nature I wouldn’t
be as stubborn as a tree as you blow
through me like the wind and make me
sway as you pull and tangle my
branches reaching out to you.

If it weren't for nature I wouldn't
blossom like a flower in a tender
smile as you say my name, carefully
and precisely as if to open me up
perfectly and without disrupting beauty.

If it weren’t for nature I wouldn’t
enjoy storms the way I enjoy our late-night
conversations that brew and stir up
majestic thunder and lightning,
causing me to revel in your profoundness.

If it weren’t for nature I wouldn’t
feel your touch the same way rain
kisses and approaches my skin using
different degrees of pressure that delicately
rearrange my heart’s unscripted thirst.

If it weren’t for nature I wouldn’t
think of you in every way as nature
becomes a metaphor describing
what it’s like to conjoin scenery with
you and your cosmic enchantment.