Love. . .

. . .You could be an aching in my soul so deep, that the hollow you leave behind could consume me. I smile, a smile I don’t even know exists; when it’s your face within these eyes, no matter how many times I blink.

I don’t understand it. Love, your memory could burn in my chest like a concentric coal on fire in a desert storm. No one would know, and in the heat, and the dust, and the silence, I could burn away.
You intoxicate me. Your memories laser through these still growing bones, and shatter me into a still. Something so old, to this new.

This madness debilitates me. There are days when my body makes nothing of the urge to survive, and threatens to stop pushing. To stop pulsing. To stop wanting anything more, unless you appeared, and time undid itself. While I, I simply give in.

What is this?

Love, all logic leads to nothing, all meaning always ends with you, coursing through my scientific cells, questioning the very core of these laws I uphold with pride. Laws. You break the barriers of science and make a mortal wish for another life instead.

I fear us.

I fear being caught up in something old, as a pill for our something new.
I fool myself into a someday, I won’t ever utter, so I drag through a NOW that quicksands time around me, never moving, and so fucking strong it hurts to wait another day.

But I’ll never say it. So won’t you?

Love, I’ll wait for the day you’re ready. Wait for the day you return to claim me. Wait for the time your heart gets braver than mine and looks right at mine, in one, endless knowing.

Love. . . You could be an aching in my soul so deep, that the hollow you leave behind could consume me, and it does. So between the moment you come back, and the moments we’ve left behind, I’ll spin a totem in our name, and let you decide if it falls.

It’s true, there is a price for everything.


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