The scratch
of your beard is like wool on my skin,
welcomed and
warming to the touch.
As itchy as it is, I never want to be
without it.

The sun filtered through the trees and fell on your face in such a way,
it made me almost jealous that it could touch you so freely and I couldn’t.
I looked to the sky and wondered why you weren't mine already.
I'd been by your side for years, through the good and the bad.
I'd stuck around and listened and experienced and I knew you like no other.
So, I can't help but wonder how we got stuck here.
Maybe, I should start tossing my coins into wishing wells instead of rain buckets.
I never really believed in wishing wells, but if it would make you mine, then I'd do it.  
Maybe, it's because there's another you have your heart set on?
Maybe, it’s because you don't want to ruin us.
I don't think you could if you tried.

No rest for the wicked,
and no rest for the weary.
My eyes become slickened,
dreaming of the dreary.

You’re an  idol, dearest lover,
promising tranquility.
Love in thee, I have discovered,
is paired with fragility.

Close my eyes to clear away
the noxious thoughts clouding my mind,
Though I would wish that I could stay,
I fear, I must leave thee behind.

Overwhelmed by serenity,
My sleepless nights, they come no more.
In the lack of your terrenity,
harmonious dreams, then are restored.

You know, that lingering
feeling of waves pulling
and pushing you
in and out of the sea
as you lay in bed after a
long day at the beach, that
is what it feels like after a day
with you.
Except with the waves,
if you forget about them for just
a moment, the sensation passes.
I couldn’t forget you, not even for a second,
and even if I did, I couldn’t shake the feeling of you.

When he asked me why I loved
the rain,
the ocean,
    and the river so,
the only answer I had for him was that
even after all I’d been through, I was
never afraid to get back in the water.

You weren't made for the sun or moon
or from the earth, wind, or fire.
You were the kind that ran with the wild horses
and floated where the river carried you.
You were the sort of soul that not only
enjoyed the rain but danced in it like it was more
than water falling to the ground, like it was a ritual
and only you could thank the clouds for every drop.
You were the kind of soul that believed in vivid
dreams and the absence of shoes,
because bare feet helped you stay grounded.
You were as free as water.
How could you let yourself dry up?

Be it time,
be it space,
no matter the distance,
I will wait for you.