My heart grows colder,
Though I'm warmer for it.
I feel lost in a small bubble,
Everything around seems to crumble and fall.
My only wish,
If nothing else,
Is for you to call.
Oh,
To hear your voice,
It's like the feeling of a butterfly fluttering on your nose.
It's the feel of cold water as it falls down your throat to a longing gullet.
To feel the soft caress of your hand,
Is downy sweeping across my skin.
It's the tickle that doesn't make me jump,
It's the shiver that welcomes goosebumps.
If only,
If only,
I could simply feel your arms around me,
I would fall back-first into a pile of now broken leaves.
I once walked around our town for hours,
Trying to alleviate the thought that soon I would be gone.
It was then that I heard your voice,
That soft and delicate and loving voice.
It fluttered on my nose like a butterfly,
It brushed itself against my check,
And the sweet aroma of a single white flower growing in the yard outside my window swept gently into my nose,
Then I sneeze.
I will pick you this flower,
Once every day,
Since so many grow,
But so far apart.
If anyone has ever known how to fix this,
It was you.