I know
you’ll say
with a pat of
a reassuring hand
“It will come again,
It will.
There will be another.”
And while
you mean well
and I even believe you
this morning
my skin
is longing
to be touched
and lightly,
my lips
to be brushed
with a kiss, sweet
and my eyes
to be held
in a gaze beyond
fondness, stirring
shared.
Allow me this.
For I am open
but missing,
not “him”
more than
another
for
a deep breath
of love’s burning
smoke.
If you would like to hear me reading this poem, you can do so by clicking here.
Oh this is so beautiful it instantly brought tears to my eyes.
Clare xx
Beautiful. Just beautiful.
Let's add that to the list of: "Ideas that would never have occurred to me in a Million Years". Hmmph. I can't imagine it, but maybe I should try? EEEEEEEEE.
Hardeeharhar! ;))