The thought that I have not yet found
lingers right behind,
the loose,
beaten, curtain that
is my
mind.
It hides and
right at it’s delicate crescendo
it evades my gentle grasp.
Deep into the irrevocable
nothingness
that I can’t seem to find.
I reach blindly into
the interminable
darkness
gasping for light as the black
drowns my
thoughts.
Waiting for her, to pull
me
out.
Waiting to feel her voice,
her
touch,.
Waiting for her
to wrap me in her thoughts,
and take me on journeys filled
with burning roses and silver linings.
Waiting for her,
to bring me
(the thought),
that I have not yet found,

Her.