Saturday, April 09, 2005


The delicious languid pain
of needing what is not clear
i feel it now. right now.
i feel you and want you and need you and desire for nothing more than you.
how is it that it was you who left my life. my sight. my touch. my life. my life. my life.
it hurts.
i miss you with every day that comes. every delight i have. every love i know.
it hurts.
it will always hurt. won't it.
it was this day long ago. a second ago.
our souls burst into two from a messy, meshy, mass of one. of you.
and we danced together for a minute. was it only a minute? or a lifetime. or inside out moments that equal nothing. and everything.
it hurts.
and i miss you.

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