The only thought that is keeping me going;
Is the vision of your fingers,
Putting pen to paper,
Tapping words in to the keyboard,
Dreaming of my scent,
Visualising my kisses,
Tasting my liquid passion
Hearing me call for more,
Feeling me in your grasp,
Eating me with your delicate words,
Guiding my way with your body,
Taking me to places I've never been,
Giving me your tongue to speak a new language,
Whispering sweet nothings to me,
Lying next to me sleeping effortlessly,
Writing a letter of you,
Ink stains on your fingers,
Cooking dinner in your kitchen,
Holding hands in the park,
The touch of your eyes to mine.
Keeping me going, you are the coals to my fire.

With you,
The color blue is never sad.
The north winds are cold,
But there is no chill.
The sun is a friend I had not noticed,
Beaming.

With you,
My hands are woven
And the grass is weaving
A great blanket,
Safe and long and warm
Like your hands,
When they cover,
When they touch me
Like my lost, new found friends
The sun and the sheltering
Earth
And the autumn winds,
I no longer dread,
No longer fear,
With you.

I try to exhale the heaviness in my chest
But it’s not enough
It will never be enough
And I’m sorry all over again

I feel the shrug of the passing winds,
That gather beyond my solemn place,
Where indifferent birds fly to and from,
With only lost dreams, real as her face.

Thunder roils the sky—
Under Olympus, bolts hail,
Angry cries of Zeus.