Clarifications

There is a woman somewhere that I love
(Right now I think she's upstairs in the shower);
If I am Noah, she must be the dove
Flying on back to me by her own power
(The olive branch she bears is simply her,
The only thing I've searched for all this while).
Her voice is hardly music, but entrances
(She'd laugh at me if I admitted this);
There's subtle beauty in her angry glances
(At least the kind that stop with just a kiss).
I love to look at her and sometimes stare
(She grumbles at me when she catches me);
I cannot help but wish that she were there
Whenever I'm in different company
(Which is not often, as I much prefer).
In short, there is a woman. I love her.