It's been a month
an entire month of doing abolutely nothing.
30 days and not once have I attempted to describe the texture of your hands on my skin or the sound of your voice.

The dark color of your eyes or the freedom that rests in the palms of your hands.
The feeling of being enfolded while being completely free in your arms.
The magic that lies at the end of your fingertips.

The sledgehammer rhythm of your heart and the peace it instills in mine.
the beauty of your smile and the gentle tone to your laugh.
Your lips warm and soft - a healing ritual when they meet mine.

All these things I have failed to describe, to write down - afraid to allow them to creep to the front of my mind and take over. Because that's what thoughts of you do - invade my mind and nestle into every nook and cranny of my ocean deep thoughts and troubles.

And now, I miss you.