Everything I see
brings you to mind.
The carpet lines are
the stripes on your shirt.
The red bricks are
your lips-
and, yes, they smile at me.
The windows of my house
are your eyes.
The thick grass
moves like you hair
and my fingers want
to scratch your dirt scalp.
Every white car
is yours.
The wind is
your voice
and the sunshine
your laugh.

I see your photo
and it's only
an image,
yet you are
always around me
and soon enough-
your features
that I see
in this world
will be real
and physically near.

buoyant
lives
with no
substance
sailing
as a
leaf
in the
wind.
"I am
okay,
I am
not
drowning."
Yes, but
you are
not
flying.

Three days for by
too fast.
Faster than the sun rises
and sets,
it seems.
The night before,
brings me to tears
as I hug you,
forgetting to be glad
you are here now,
not that you will
be gone tomorrow.
Though, tomorrow,
it will hurt.
An emptiness
in my stomach
will ache.
So why tonight
must I cry too?

Ah, that is for
love.

I cry when my
arms are around you
and your head lays on mine
for the beauty of love.
I cry when I play
with your fingers
and tell you
"you're perfect"
because of this
tragic ecstasy
called love.
I cry when you say
I'm a beautiful and
strong woman
for love.
When you are here
or when you're gone,
I love you.
States away and
months away,
I love you.

So the night before,
while your  body
is near,
I cry and hug you.
Tomorrow,
while your body is far,
I will cry, too
simply
because
I love you.

In the lines of your palm-
the trenches of your skin,
is where I keep my heart.
You hold it safely and
keep it from falling.
The depths of your flesh
is where my heart calls home.

In the lines of my palm-
the trenches of my skin,
is where you keep your heart.
I hold it with care and
keep it from breaking.
The depths of my flesh
is where your heart calls home.

Our palms unite our hearts
and bring an aching of pure love.

I am positive there is
no other
for me
than you.

You are it.
Him.
My only.

My best friend
and
no one else could ever feel
quite right.

You are my complement,
my other.

And that's all.

We might as well accept it
because there's nothing
we can do about it.

Nothing.
At all.

In those eight years,
you may have been oblivious.
But,
I've always known.

He keeps me warm at night
his breath-
in and out-
on the nape of my neck
sends goosebumps
and satisfaction.
His arm around my hip,
turned on its side,
like his,
so my back and his chest
are one.
He keeps me warm at night
and when I toss from the images,
he stays right beside me
holding me
securing me to our bed and this world.
His chest rises and falls and his
noises begin.
And I am there, beside him,
to take it all in-
his breath
his heartbeat
embrace and feel
and know that he's with me there
under the covers
keeping me safe and warm.