Status: <3
Of Love and Light
In My Arms...
If arms could at all hold the air in embrace, with all the love arms can bare in such, and make materialized the, then, phantom recipient, I'd hold my arms circled 'round nothing until you appeared. I swear. I'd bind the air the way my heart is - tight - until, once upon blinking, it were your eyes I finally saw.
Even if it took hours. Days. Months. Years. Until I saw you again.
And while I did, I'd pretend you were already there in my arms, and we'd sway to the music of the wholeness of the moment. Of the contentedness.
Peace.
And I'd snuggle where your neck would be, eyes closed, lips in dreamy smile. And I'd count the heartbeats I could make out, pounding through your chest, reaching for me. I'd breathe in the air, deep, and make with memory your scent existent.
I'd twiddle my thumbs along the air where I'd imagine the back of your neck. I'd bask in the heat of your skin and presence. The fire which warms my soul through the winters of day.
I'd love how close I'd want you to be and, all the while, mourn how much you weren't. My sweet and far thing. I'd grieve the reality: that, for now, it was only a fantasy I held in intimacy.
A thrice folded picture. A wrinkled shirt left behind. A song that always made me think of you.
But grief and mourning would only make for more passion. And, I promise, I'd only hold on tighter to the dream while on the other side of the lost lands...
Even if it took hours. Days. Months. Years. Until I saw you again.
And while I did, I'd pretend you were already there in my arms, and we'd sway to the music of the wholeness of the moment. Of the contentedness.
Peace.
And I'd snuggle where your neck would be, eyes closed, lips in dreamy smile. And I'd count the heartbeats I could make out, pounding through your chest, reaching for me. I'd breathe in the air, deep, and make with memory your scent existent.
I'd twiddle my thumbs along the air where I'd imagine the back of your neck. I'd bask in the heat of your skin and presence. The fire which warms my soul through the winters of day.
I'd love how close I'd want you to be and, all the while, mourn how much you weren't. My sweet and far thing. I'd grieve the reality: that, for now, it was only a fantasy I held in intimacy.
A thrice folded picture. A wrinkled shirt left behind. A song that always made me think of you.
But grief and mourning would only make for more passion. And, I promise, I'd only hold on tighter to the dream while on the other side of the lost lands...