This one is dedicated to all my aspiring writer friends - creative creatures with deep yearnings to mold meaningful words into art. Waiting for the inspiration but can't find the words just yet... for reasons of their own.

If I could...
I'd write about the feeling of new love emerging within – butterflies fluttering in my core, perpetual longing of your embrace, the simple pleasures that showed you cared and that my efforts were not in vain…

If I could...
I'd shout out your name from the rooftops, my thoughts echoing all of the ethereal and spine-tingling sensations of rapturous delight, consuming me…

If I could...
I'd surrender my body, heart and soul to you, for the mere joy of having it welcomed by your waiting arms, ready to ravage and take me to my edge…

If I could...
I'd rest my mouth against your sacred skin, breathe in your essence and honor you with all that is truly me, without fear…

If I could...
I’d find the inspiration within me to flood pages and pages with my love-stained ink flowing directly from my heart through my veins and down to my pen...

If I could… I would.
But now this writer writes nothing of the kind, trapped in a loop of uncertainty. Sorrow and resignation sleep with my soul, becoming my new Master. For Love has slipped from my grasp once more. I wait in the hope to write beautiful sonnets and declarations of boundless love finally returned unto me… someday. And our love would leap from this page and live eternally with the stars. They would read my words of adoration and cherish you the same way I always have. If I could only find the words...

I crave the emotion that carries me into reckless abandon where my meanings will be felt.

For now, I will sit back and watch others profess devotion for their lovers to the nth degree. I pray that one day, my heart may awaken again and pour out the utterances my soul longs to fashion for you, still indescribable to me.