Ache

Blood boiling and heart adrift, longing am I to feel that loathsome touch again. My pain is known by poets and scholars of the ages, nothing new can be learned, only a re-telling of a suffering as old as man and woman themselves. I can scarcely breath at the thought of you, my chest a rolling heart attack that consumes my being each waking night. Yet I beg to be comforted only by you. A toxicity familiar to us both, and a nature as vicious, made of tooth, spit, and tongue.

I spend my days drowning in you. A paradox of the overwhelming and endless ocean that chokes me, but the ship and the harbor that saves me. We each leave empty husks, content to drown again.