Longing for Love

My heart is longing for—love.

—an embrace sweeter than the august rains, one that envelopes my senses and fills my whole.

—a touch as soft as silk billowing in a warm breeze when even the devils soften their pressure.

—the sound of precious gazes and flickering lights that surround us, totally unaware.

—shifting feet in anticipation of what should be coming, what should have happened, and what should be happening right now.

—steady hands that never falter, yet are shaking as an autumn leaf, unsteady come winter winds.

—young breath on necks quite unlike any drug we have ever tasted, intoxicating even at the thought.

—intrepid movements, forbidden by god, demanded by soul in repentance for our lack of time.

—quite conversations where no sound is made yet entire multitudes weep from our syllables of love dripping honey from our lips.

—dominion over the kingdom of your body where my army yields at the passing of your holiness, despite the power we share.

—an air of competition that no one ever wins, only breaks when we both fight for the same team, but only then.

—grudges and hate flush with rhythm and paint, a heart shape spread amongst your body against mine in the limelight.

—truth of feelings never spoken, never thought, written out on pages blank yet we read every word.

—every laugh and tear and sorrow and break and grin and shake, every high and low and fear and take and give and taint.

—trials unto the end of days that both you and I must make.

—purpose beyond compare that only angels and demons seem to care, God standing on sidelines in awe of our creation.

—drink of silent delight, and when I don’t show it, I betray my own self to keep you close.

—greatness unlike any Wonder, no longer in line or numerous but contained within the one, our one.

—vigorous strength in the form of delicate string, connecting each and everyone of us, red, white, one, two.

—cries at night that scream help yet are silent shakes of rage at the dying of the light.

—need for one look, one touch, one word, one syllable, maybe even a thought which I cannot see, hear, taste, touch, or smell, but can feel.

—the tug to be lessened as we hasten towards one another in acceptance of our fate.

—a crutch to help my disabled heart through this crippled world in anticipation of falling off the edge.

—a hand doing the impossible, though meager in delight we relish the light it shines upon us in this dimly lit room.

—darkness between the two elephants in the room, staring blankly into the dark but seeing every feature of the other.

—doubtless resurrection of princes so sure and princesses uniformly addressing past happenstances with familiarity and wonder, time passing faster than is meant.

—understanding of hearts, understanding of minds, understanding of actions, understanding of belief, understanding of reaction, understanding of understanding.

—so much more.

My heart is longing for love.

My heart is longing for you.

My heart is longing for you, forever.

How did my heart ever give up on love?