When our lives settle difficult,
we wonder what will be our next
manner of speaking,
how to convey a need for love.
When our passions so unbridled,
cause our eyes, our hands, our bodies,
to want to interweave, and grace
each other’s fire with further desire,
it is in the little things she does,
when her fingertips touch my own,
and sweep the skin to help me feel
her love is an everlasting reminder.
When in the moment, our moment,
she does let my hands fill themselves
with her hair, so she feels my touch
upon her neck to allow her eyes to live.
When in the day, we do spend hours
in simple tones, conscious of each other,
in a need to display love in a quiet,
in a quiet, in a quiet manner of touch.
Look outside the sunlight shadows the morning mood,
there’s a partial overcast sky,
suggests an incomplete meaning,
there would seem to be a distant pain
exists in her heart.
He would try to simply hold on to measure,
the beating pulse of angst she wish
would a challenge meet his own heart,
a desire beyond the normalcy
of knowing love could be trusted
without necessary definition.
We do imagine what our heart believes,
that if in a sudden turn,
her eyes might be in his again,
he would take her tears and meet them with his own,
in this moment the door would be open,
if the sudden luxury of peace,
could then step inside the vacancy
left bruised in
Imagine if the world could understand
A woe as troubling in its demand
As the will of man when caught in the grind
Of a wandering mind, lost in remind.
Gather steam and feel quiet urgency
His heart suspends, ask certain clemency.
For one short moment, serendipity
Steps forward cries a surreal pity.
Glance around the room, today strangers will
Know there is true love by apparent shrill.
For though we call it inevitable
Still as her sweet heart shreds we feel able.
Oh to feel her soft caress, distant eyes.
Bring bodies close, let me shadow your cries.