Her Magic

I know you wield no wand, for definitely
I would have noticed a stick lying around.
But sometimes I wonder if perhaps
You are a mistress of potions.
Because I do not understand myself
When I am in your presence.
You have enchanted me, O Goddess.
I breathe in your scent and I am intoxicated
As after I have some swigs of palm wine.
I touch your hair and at the back of my mind,
I wonder why I have not turned to stone.
But it is when you touch me that
I lose my mind completely.
My senses come alive, and in that moment
It is only you I comprehend.
I should stay away, or so I keep telling myself.
But have you attached an invisible string to my side,
Drawing me despite my supposed sane nature?
Now, I am sure that you favor the spells.
Or how do I explain the incoherent words
That spew out of you when we are together.
The only certainty I have is that I am your servant,
Bound by the shackles of our passion.

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