She comes to me when I need her,
though she never leaves her chair.
She comes to me when she needs me,
though her body never moves an inch.
She comes to me through a tiny screen,
though I rarely see her face.
She comes to me to come for me,
though my keys are all I can caress.
She comes for me over and over,
though others were lucky if she came once.
She comes for me as I touch her mind, her heart,
though her body is still so far out of reach.
She comes for me with mindless passion,
though others see only quiet reserve.
She comes to me begging for more,
though others would never see her bow.
She comes to me because she is Mine,
though she hardly believes it herself.
She comes for me because she is Mine,
and she may never belong to another.