It's been so silent lately...
It's gotten lonely up here,
The days become just like the day before,
And I fail to see the light in their eyes,
The cries of the crow drown out the sweet songs of canaries,
The wind's music no longer satisfies my soul,
I want to go back
To the nothingness I came from,
I want to return home,
It's gotten lonely here...

what does it feel like to be held
not by another body
not by a set of limbs, a chest, a chin
but
by another soul

what does it feel like
to see truth in another pair of eyes
instead of hidden intentions
instead of absence

what does it feel like
to hear a familiar heartbeat
resounding next to your own
reaching through skin
through bone
two rhythms
indistinguishable

what does it feel like
to write poems about
a love that exists