A love so deep, it rips apart your unhealed skull.
A mystery of illusions, inclusivity is dared to be dispelled.
May I hold you?
Or am I too far away.
Can I feel you?
Just a touch to make me beg of your despair.
Unwritten poetry, a querulent secrecy of written misery and longing.
I want to love, may I love?
Whom can be loved more than the love of thyself?
I fall to my aching pits.
I feel you...
But you are not here.