His Eyes
As I sit listening intently to the wind whisper soft melodies in my ear;
I think of him.
Emotions welling up like a river that flows into a waterfall,
Which cascades down my face...
I am aware at this very moment in time;
As my heartbeat explains to me in grave detail
That the only cure for this madness I am feeling
Is the tender warmth of his familiar embrace...
The moisture of the memories I hold
Spill over onto my pillow;
Gently, but surely becoming a small lake of desperation;
Drowning me... Pulling me deeper into my love for him
From this I cannot escape...
The memory of his lips and hands;
Parts of him that are etched into my skin
For eternal remembrance; as are the arch of his brow;
The sounds of his slumber, and my soft, passionate kisses
On his neck’s nape...
I grasp for sanity; but fall slowly and gently into the abyss
That is my magnetism to him;
The fall itself, scraping sharply at my heart on the way down;
Yet the sting of it is bittersweet...
Sweet like the honeydew of life
That reminds me of what love can do
When it’s lovely favor is returned;
And bitter; like the reminder
That love runs solely through me;
It is as sour as the stench of rotting meat...
To love him is to die, to live, and to die yet again;
The former death resembling that of the caterpillar’s rebirth
Into a butterfly
And the life in between
Like the butterfly’s wings; spreading to fly into the winds of the unknown:
To experience a wonder-filled existence...
The second death, however
Is as permanent as reincarnation
As sure as the reflection of the seasons etched in stones
As sure as my undying love for him
Regardless of its pain
It still has yet no resistance...
Can I
Will I
Ever come down from this delirious high
Coasting through a sky of self-destruction
Yet; as I coast, I am seeing wonders along the way
That would be missed otherwise...
Or will I wither away
Like the once bountiful field of tulips in Spring;
Buried beneath the heavy winter of my inevitable demise...
I miss his eyes.